Come Join the Circus of Sorcery
by Just Celia
Summary: Aaron spat into Merlin's bruised face while he spoke, "your Prince isn't here now, Emrys. Show us what you can do." Merlin looked at the sea of sorcerers, feeling the magic build, furiously, behind his eyes. "Back away," he growled, raising his hands.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone! As a few of you may know, I very recently finished another Merlin fic, but I was thinking up this idea while writing it, and decided to just get the first chapter up :D_

_Warnings: You can happily (or guiltily) expect some whump in this story, although not quite yet :s_

_Disclaimer: I don't get disclaimers... I swear the whole point of fanfiction was that we own NOTHING, we just drool over the work of others? But hey ho, I DIDN'T CREATE MERLIN!_

_Please enjoy and review :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Everyone was asleep except Merlin, and the guards outside, when the bells chimed midnight. Merlin snuggled deeper beneath his blanket, his hand running back and forth over the lit candle on his bedside table. It flickered, twinkling at him. His eyes melted to gold and the flame split into two, so it looked like it had a conjoined twin. Merlin watched it for a moment longer, then relaxed the spell, allowing the flames to join together once more. Outside his room, he heard Gaius snore. He sighed and then rolled onto his back, frowning up at the ceiling. Arthur had only let him slope off to bed, feeling desperately sorry for himself, half an hour ago. The Prince had taken it upon himself to patrol the town till way into the night, towing his servant along with him: all over Camelot there had been disappearances. People would fall asleep in their beds and then, the next morning, they'd be gone. It hadn't been too worrying at first: maybe two people missing in a month. But the number had gradually risen. That week, ten people had apparently been stolen in the night.

Merlin could see how much it had been troubling Arthur: over time, he had become a lot more agitated, pacing back and forth in his chambers, making it impossible for Merlin to help him dress. He just stood there, watching helplessly, as his master would walk, stop to peer out the window, and then set off again. Merlin wasn't naive enough to think Arthur was worried for himself: maybe that's what he would've thought a few years ago, but now he knew better. Arthur cared only for the people of Camelot.

So, that night, they had had left to march down the streets, on the constant look out for unusual activity. Merlin usually wouldn't have minded. He was only resentful because he felt, if Arthur was going to keep him awake till eleven o'clock, he shouldn't have forced him into target practice during the day. As Merlin thought about it, he remembered the ache in his shoulders where the target had rested... it suddenly returned, thudding hotly. Merlin sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself that he would have to get up in less than six hours. He was just beginning to doze off, however, when something interrupted him. There was a peculiar noise coming from his bedroom door. He sat bold upright, squinting at the gap between the bottom of his door and the floor. Through this gap was sliding an envelope. Merlin jumped out of bed and scurried to pick it up but, before he could grasp it, it flew into the air, and hovered above his head. Merlin's heart froze for a moment, before he straightened up, and the name on the envelope was level with his eyes: _Emrys_. For a moment he couldn't breathe. This was magic, even if just a small trick to make the paper fly. He hesitated, gazing at the envelope, and then snatched it out of the air. Then he crept to the door and opened it, peering outside.

"Hello," he whispered, "anyone there?" Gaius snorted in his sleep. The room was empty apart from the old physician. Merlin withdrew back into his room and sat on his bed.

He gingerly turned the envelope over in his fingers, aware that he was looking at it as if it might explode. He mentally shook himself: since when had he been someone to instantly expect a magic object to be dangerous? That was Arthur and Uther rubbing off on him. Ignoring these new, unwelcome, instincts, he tore the envelope open... or, at least, he tried to; he was sure he had heard it rip apart, but it was still firmly shut. He frowned and then tried again. When it still didn't open he cast an anxious glance through his open door to where Gaius was sleeping and then instructed the envelope to unfold, in the tongue that came so naturally to him. He felt the magic burn, gently, behind his eyes, and the envelope suddenly fell apart. He allowed himself a quick smile, which vanished into a look of curiosity. He took the letter from within the envelope and settled back to read.

It was an invitation. He stared at the words:

_Dear Emrys,_

_You have been acknowledged as one of the greatest Warlocks in Camelot. It is for this reason that you have been invited to the Circus of Sorcery. To find us, just follow the path. It will become clear to you the moment you leave the castle. You have three days, Emrys. We hope to see you presently. _

_With regards from ***_

Where a name should be, at the end of the letter, there was a seal with the image of a carousel, moulded into the blood red wax. Merlin couldn't explain why looking at it made him shiver.

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><p>When Merlin got up the next day, woken by Gaius, he considered showing him the letter, and asking if he knew anything about the circus, but he held back. He had a desire to leave the castle and seek out this path the invitation had talked about, but he had a feeling Gaius would stop him from going. It was a strong feeling. In the end, he decided to casually mention the circus, just to find out what Gaius knew.<p>

"Gaius," he said, in a voice laid thick with nonchalance... perhaps a bit too much.

"Yes?" Gaius turned to look at his ward, his voice already filled with suspicion.

"Well," Merlin sat down at the table and pulled his bowl of porridge towards him, half lifting the spoon to his mouth, "have you ever heard of any... um... magic circuses?" Gaius raised his eyebrows.

"Of course," he said, surprising Merlin, "I have even been to some. Many, in fact, when I was younger. They used to be very popular, even in Camelot, before the great purge..." he trailed off, sadly.

"What were they like?" Merlin pressed, eagerly. Gaius sat down opposite Merlin and frowned into his own breakfast.

"They were... well, they were marvellous. Called things like 'the Magician's Marquee' and 'the Warlock's Spectacle'. You usually had to be invited to attend... I was known to be practicing magic at the time, so I received the odd invitation when a show was in town. Sometimes they would be open to the public, for a small entrance fee, and they were worth every penny. The things I saw, Merlin!"

"What? What did you see?" Merlin instinctively moved forwards, leaning closer to Gaius. The physician shook his head, as though remembering where he was.

"Never you mind," he said, getting to his feet, "haven't you better be getting to work?" Merlin sighed and said,

"Yeah, I suppose," and walked towards the door. Before he left, however, he peeked back round the door and said,

"Did you ever go to the Circus of Sorcery?" Gaius stared.

"No... no I didn't. Merlin, where are all these questions coming from?"

"Nowhere, it's nothing," Merlin replied, quickly, trying to hide his disappointment, before dashing off to find Arthur: he was all ready late.

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><p>"<em>Mer<em>lin, you are _so _useless" Arthur grumbled, when Merlin offered him a cheery 'good morning!'

"What is it now, sire?" Merlin asked, dancing around the room, pulling Arthur's clothes from his cupboard, "did I not polish you're armour right? Is one pair of your boots still scuffed? Did you not have enough to eat yesterday? Did I not run fast enough during training-" Merlin had another fifteen of these, ready to round off, but Arthur cut across him.

"You're _late_." He said, crossly.

"By _seven minutes_," Merlin cried, exasperated. Arthur cast him a dark look and Merlin rolled his eyes before saying, "I am sorry your highness. I shall not be late again." Arthur gave a derisive snort,

"Like that's going to happen," he said, no longer sounding annoyed, just a little resigned to the fact that he had a servant who was simply never going to be on time.

"It might," Merlin sniffed, trying to sound appear disdainful, but failing terribly when he tripped over one of Arthur's belts which what trailing from his hands on the floor. He fell in a heap, with the clothes he'd been holding strewn around him.

"For crying out loud, Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed, after he'd finished laughing, "could you _please _try and stay upright for more than a few seconds?" Merlin got to his feet, blushing, and gathered up the clothes.

Merlin was a little more than distracted that day, meaning that he was being constantly scolded and reprimanded by a bemused Arthur. He poured the bath water too hot and served lunch too cold. He fell over no less than eleven times while trying to take Arthur's armour to the armoury. He got boot polish on Arthur's robe. And all because of a hole the invitation seemed to be burning in his pocket. Merlin constantly pulled it out and reread it when Arthur wasn't looking, revelling in the words: 'You have been acknowledged as one of the greatest Warlocks in Camelot'. It felt unbelievably good to be recognised, although it was slightly unsettling: he had no clue who these people were. What if they were bounty hunters, disguised as this 'circus'? What if he was leaving only to be delivered straight back to Uther. But the envelope _had _been magic. Maybe this really was just something _good_, for a change. An opportunity to be accredited by his own people.

Also, Merlin had always had a childhood dream of running away and joining a circus, back in Ealdor, before he had truly come to terms with his powers. Then, there was always the option of turning his back on that life, and starting afresh with new people, constantly on the move.

So, when night fell, Merlin found his old canvas rucksack and stuffed it with his few possessions. He hesitated, often, thinking of Arthur, who it was his destiny to protect. But Merlin's curiosity was something that could never be controlled, and he told himself that he would be back before long: Arthur could cope for a few days, couldn't he? And then there was Gaius. Merlin considered leaving him some kind of letter, but the old man would know he was lying. It would probably not take him long to fathom where Merlin had _really _gone, after their conversation that morning.

In the end, Merlin simply shook his head, grabbed his bag and left, deciding to, for now, damn the consequences of his actions.

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><p>The next morning, Arthur waited for over half an hour for his servant, before getting up to search for him. When Merlin was not found in his chambers, only a worried Gaius, Arthur set about searching the whole castle, and then the houses outside. Finally, he came to awful conclusion, that Merlin was just the latest to be spirited away, taken from right under his nose. Arthur's stomach clenched with the guilt that he had come to associate with Merlin, and prayed to the Gods that the idiot would be back soon. In the back of his mind, he was already putting together a rescue mission. He noted, irritably, that, till Merlin had come into his life, planning to save a servant would have been completely out of the question.<p>

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><p><em>I know that this chapter wasn't exactly thrilling, but I just wanted to set the scene for you all :D I hope you liked it all the same. Would lovelovelove to know what you think *hopeful smile*<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again :D This chapter is quite a long one, because I had a lot to fit in :s I have decided that this is set in the third series, when Morgana is all evil and everything, and Merlin has met Gwaine twice (I recently watched the episodes with Gwaine in and I was like 'aw I miss Merlin SO FRICKIN MUCH'). Oh, and can I thank my first reviewers for this story? cheers to Ghostwriterlondon13, Ruby890, Anonymous, Page-breather, Doctor-emily001, Starts with a D, Emachinescat, Laura and also anyone who faved this or put it on the alert thingy majig :D Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The moment Merlin had stepped out of the Castle front doors he had, strangely and inexplicably, known where to go. Feeling unaccountable weightless and free, he had set off, trotting down the front steps, in his bowlegged way. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that everything around him seemed to have developed a thin film of fuzziness, apart from a thin line at his feet. He frowned down at the line and tried to step to the right of it. At once, he was filled with an unexplainable nausea, and a voice was screaming in his head that this felt _wrong_. He stepped quickly back onto the line, and felt immediately better. This was his path.

He followed it closely, being careful not to put a toe out of line (literally). He was worried about what would happen when he reached the front gate: surely the guards would enquire where he was going? But, when he reached the gate, the guards didn't even notice him. He kept his head looking straight ahead, and walked forwards with as much purpose as he could muster. It appeared that, as long as he stayed on the path, no one could intercept him. It was an interesting magic, and Merlin was delightfully intrigued by it.

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><p>Arthur was furious. In a rage. Just plain damn angry. It was his father, Uther, at it again:<p>

"Arthur, you have to start taking responsibility- your life is far more important than that of a servant's!" he said. Arthur glared, wondering why these comments from the King still wound him up so much.

"My life is no more important than Merlin's. I can't just leave him; what if he's been kidnapped? He saved my life, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Uther said, "and you have saved his on many occasions. I think that is enough."

"You can't stop me from going after him, Father." Arthur said, firmly.

"Really?" Uther looked his son straight in the eye, and Arthur's insides quailed away from the glare.

Within ten minutes Arthur found himself locked within his chambers. Uther didn't like to do it but, as far as he was concerned, he had no other choice. He couldn't have Arthur put his life in danger _again_ for that fool of a manservant who constantly seemed to be getting in trouble.

"Father," Arthur pounded his fists on his bedroom door, "let me out!" he quickly gave up, aware that he sounded like a whining child. He sighed, and looked around the room, remembering all the times he'd been sent there, when he was younger, without any supper, for running off with friends who 'weren't suitable' for a Prince. He ran his fingers through his hair and began pacing up and down. For goodness sakes! When would Uther realise that Arthur could make his own mind up about things now, and that he could no longer decide who was and wasn't good for his son?

Gaius heard about Arthur's predicament, as the news travelled around the castle like wildfire: the servants loved it when Arthur got locked up, not because they didn't like Arthur, but because it made for great gossip. Gaius was already stressing about the whereabouts of his ward: the boy had run off without so much as a note left behind in his wake. Gaius thought back to the conversation they'd had, about the magic circuses. Maybe that was where Merlin had disappeared to... but Gaius doubted it. Merlin would have told him. The only other explanation Gaius could come up with was that Merlin had been taken, just like those other poor souls. Gaius couldn't stand the thought.

The old man got to his feet and went to Arthur's chambers. When he got there, he called through the door:

"Sire?"

"Gaius? Is that you? Thank God," came the muffled reply.

"Yes, sire. I can guess that you're here because of Merlin?" Gaius heard Arthur make an annoyed sort of grunt.

"The idiot," was the reply. Gaius couldn't help but nod in agreement, even though Arthur couldn't see the movement.

"Is there any chance you'll be let out soon?"

"I have no idea, Gaius, but my father will have to send knights out to find the missing people soon... I have no doubt that Merlin is among them. But 'soon' might be too long away. Gaius, could you... could you get help? I know that there are... _others _who care about Merlin, but haven't been able to visit in a while." Arthur tried to put as much emphasis behind the words as possible. Gaius got the hint.

"I shall do my best, sire."

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><p>Gwaine was drunk, but you couldn't tell unless you knew him very well... it was in the loudness of his laugh and the brightness of his eyes. The former increased, and the latter dulled, but only slightly. It was only when Gwaine was <em>really <em>drunk that he fell about on the floor and insisted on buying everyone rounds. He was staying in a tavern, just outside of Camelot, and had been for a few weeks, keeping as up to date as he could with the goings on of a certain Prince and, even more importantly, his servant, who was also one of his closest friends. The first time they'd met had been one of the happier periods in his life, apart from the fact he'd almost got executed (twice). He vaguely remembered a drunken brawl, which was where he had met the two men, and cleaning about a hundred pairs of boots. He forgets why... something about pickled eggs and _a lot _of drink. The second time had been even better. It had been when Gwaine had admitted to Merlin being his only friend and, together, they'd saved Arthur's life, yet again.

Anyway, he was downstairs at the bar, flirting with the barman's daughter, a reasonably pretty girl called Sarah, with amber eyes, the colour of ale, and the drab clothing of a peasant, when a young lad ran up to the bar and asked,

"Is there someone called Gwaine here?" Gwaine looked down at the boy and dragged him up onto the stool beside him.

"That would be me," he said, leaning forwards, "what is it?"

"I have a message," the boy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of parchment, "it's from a physician in Camelot-" Gwaine snatched the paper from the boy, almost before he'd finished speaking. Sarah leaned over his shoulder, curiously, but Gwaine moved away from her. "Thank you," he said to the messenger, pressing a coin into his hand. He muttered something about being back soon to Sarah and then left the tavern, to stand outside, letting the cold air sober him up. But the letter from Gaius, who had helped nurse him back to health after being stabbed in the leg once, did a much better job than the air.

_Dear Gwaine,_

_I found your last letter to Merlin in his room. Thankfully you'd written your current address on the envelope, or I never would have been able to contact you. I know you have been outcast from Camelot, but hopefully this should not be a problem: Merlin went missing very recently... or maybe not depending on when you get this message. You might have heard of the many disappearances in Camelot. We believe that Merlin has been taken, out of Camelot, although we have no idea who by or what for. Arthur has been confined to his chambers by his father _(here Gwaine smirked, imagining Arthur being sent to his room, like a little boy) _and is therefore, at the moment, unable to help. We turn to you in the hope that your... friends, might know something. Also, have you ever heard of the Circus of Sorcery? I believe that this may have something to do with it._

_In the hope that you will be able to assist us,_

_Gaius_

Suddenly, Gwaine didn't feel drunk in the slightest. He read through the letter again, his eyes focussing on the words _in the hope that your... friends, might know something._ No doubt Gaius thought Gwaine knew the very kidnappers! He would have to explain to the old man next time they met that, although Gwaine drank too much and despised nobles, he was not yet at the stage when he hung around with such criminals. Then, he looked at the line _have you ever heard of the Circus of Sorcery? _He had, as a matter of fact. Just rumours though. Whispers. He frowned, thinking fondly of Merlin, the loyal young man who lived as a lowly serving boy. But Merlin was more than that. Gwaine wasn't stupid: he had his suspicions about Merlin's... ability. The lad _obviously _had something special about him. Gwaine was inclined to think 'Warlock', but he couldn't say for certain. There had been hints in Merlin's many letters (all of which Gwaine had kept and placed in a special pocket of his bag) that he wanted to tell Gwaine something. Tell him something he was too afraid to even confide in Arthur about, and it was obvious that there was no one in the world Merlin cared for as much as Arthur. And now, the word _Sorcery _jumped out at him, and almost slapped him in the face.

Gwaine decided, on the spot, that it was time to leave. He ran up to his room and grabbed his bag, which he promptly shouldered. Then he unsheathed his sword, looking at the recently sharpened blade. He sighed, remembering the chances he'd had as a knight back in Camelot. Damn Uther and all those other nobles. It was what you did that made you, not who you were or what family you were born into. He put the sword back into his belt and took his leave of the tavern, taking a dust-track path to who knows where. His plan was to follow the rumours of the circus. When Arthur got out, he could hunt for kidnappers. Gwaine had a feeling, however, that if Merlin wasn't safe in the castle, it was by choice.

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><p>Merlin was beginning to feel unbelievably tired, but every time he stumbled or tripped, he fell of the path and ended up retching till he dragged himself back on track. He had a feeling that the path was designed not only to stop others interfering, but also himself. He was not allowed to stop moving till he reached his destination. He was seriously starting to wish he hadn't left the castle. Only the promise of more magic awaiting him kept him convinced there might be something good to come of this. He groaned, quietly, rubbing his eyes. He tried humming, to keep up his spirits, but it just made his lips numb. He laughed, drily, as he hitched up his rucksack: he couldn't remember the last time he'd complained of numb lips. The sun was cruelly high in the sky, its rays beating down upon him. He stopped and searched in his bag for water, before remembering that he'd finished it about half an hour ago. He had just walked through a little village: it was directly behind him. He knew it was stupid not to have got water, but the path would probably make it impossible to turn back now. He glared up at the sun.<p>

"Go away," he told it, a little pathetically. It was so hot. Especially, he realised suddenly, on his chest. Over his heart. He frowned and clutched at his jacket, and then remembered the letter, the invitation, which he had placed in his inside pocket, level with his chest. He reached into his pocket, and gasped. The paper was roasting. He was surprised he hadn't been set on fire! Merlin gingerly opened the letter, tossing it from hand to hand trying not to burn himself, and tried to read it, while still throwing it. The message had changed:

_Dear Emrys,_

_To loose your way, press the seal._

Merlin stared, before he realised what the letter meant. Braving the heat, he pressed his forefinger to the red seal. Instantly, the path vanished, and everything around him became clear once more. He stuffed the now cool letter back into his pocket but was barely able to heave a sigh of relief when there was a scream from behind him.

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><p>"<em>Sorcerer!<em>" Merlin span around, horrified, to see a little girl from the village, pointing at him and screaming at the top of her lungs. Merlin realised, too late, that getting rid of the path had also gotten rid of his protection: it must have seemed to the girl that he had appeared out of thin air.

"No, please, stop screaming," Merlin crouched down in front of the girl and pleaded, desperately, with her. She took a few stumbling steps backwards, and continued to holler:

"_Sorcerer, sorcerer! DADDY! DADDY THERE'S A SORCERER!" _

Merlin closed his eyes briefly, and then looked over the vile little girl's head. Half the village had left their houses to see what the commotion was about and, standing less than two feet away, was a man as thick as a very thick tree trunk (in build... probably in brains as well).

"Say that again, my sweet," the man said to the little girl.

"He's magic, daddy," she told him, "he can disappear."

"Can he now?" the man grinned down, evilly at Merlin, showing very few teeth... because he barely had any.

"N-no," Merlin stammered, straightening up and backing away.

"Are you calling my daughter a liar?" The man growled.

"Of- of course not," Merlin quickly backtracked, "she's just mistaken-"

"I reckon I could get a nice little profit, selling on a sorcerer," the man said, cutting across Merlin. Merlin's insides immediately turned to ice as the image of Freya, the only girl he'd ever truly loved, trapped in a bounty hunter's cage, floated to the front of his mind.

"Please," Merlin begged, desperately, as more men joined the first, encouraged by the thought of a little gold, even at the cost of another's life. They all leered at him, before the girl's dad said,

"Honey, get back inside," to his daughter. She cast Merlin a snide, jeering smile, and then dashed off home. Merlin groaned.

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><p>Gwaine heard the commotion before he saw it: the unmistakable sound of a fight. Or more, of about five grown men ganging up on someone else. It only took Gwaine a few moments to guess who that someone might be. He broke into a run, past the shops and houses in the small village he had entered, pulling out his sword as he did so. He found the men easily enough, aiming vicious kicks at a small figure on the floor, most of which seemed to find their mark.<p>

"Hey!" he roared, charging forwards, "what the _hell _do you think you're doing?" and he struck a thickset man, who had his foot ready to stamp down on a pale arm, a mortal blow to his chest. The man keeled over and Gwaine wrenched his sword from the body. The other men stopped abrubtly and took a step back, so Gwaine could see the mess that was his best friend, Merlin. Immediately, he was filled with enough anger to kill every man there and he raised his sword to do just that, aiming for the man in the centre who appeared to be the ring leader. The man raised his fists (it greatly annoyed Gwaine that none of the men had brought swords of their own. There was no fun in an unequal fight) and Gwaine laughed, a little manically, getting ready to strike but then, from the floor, came a pitiful moan.

"No," Merlin gasped. He had no idea who his rescuer was but, at that moment it didn't matter. He raised a bloody hand and grabbed onto the leg of the man's trousers, "he has a daughter." And Gwaine's sword dropped in disbelief, that Merlin could care about the well being of this man and his family, and relief. The state Merlin looked in, he was surprised he wasn't dead.

Once they'd both cleaned up and had a drink, Merlin would have some explaining to do.

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><p><em>And so begins the whump :s This chapter was still about introducing characters and getting into the story and stuff, so sorry if it was a bit long and whatever :s ALSO, I'm not sure how IC Gwaine is... I dunno, would be great if you could give me some character traits of his in reviews or anything? And, is it Gawaine or Gwaine, because I've come across both spellings... I'm sticking with Gwaine because it's what most other people seem to use and, well, it's easier :)<em>

_Anyway, please keep reviewing and being generally lovely :D_


	3. Chapter 3

_I managed to write this chapter fairly quickly, which was nice but it's a bit shorter than the last one. Also, I'm sorry that Arty's been a bit absent in this fic so far (unfortunately you won't be seeing him in this chapter) but, I wouldn't have put Merlin and Arthur as the main characters unless there was going to be a fair amount of them BOTH, so he will be back soon :D Please keep reviewing :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Merlin hadn't expected them to grab him like that, and had been even more surprised when he was thrown onto the dusty floor. Sure, he had guessed there would be pain, but had thought the worst that would happen would be the thugs trussing him up, getting ready to tow him off and throw him in the back of a cart or something. The only explanation Merlin could come up with, was that they were _really _scared of him, and thought that beating him senseless would be the only way to get a sorcerer to comply with their wishes. It had been, perhaps, a mistake for Merlin to voice his opinion, whilst trying to stand back up.

"You really don't need to be afraid of me," he'd said, with a wry smile, "I'll even count to ten to give you some time to get away." The leader had snarled, furiously, and knocked him back to the ground, with a vicious blow to his jaw.

"We're not scared of you, _sorcerer_," He said and Merlin decided not to contradict him. He also kept himself from saying that it was lucky they were so close to Camelot, or he would have unleashed his full power upon them: he didn't want word of it getting back to Arthur. Then the men had laid into him, kicking and punching him. A couple of times they even pulled him to his feet, just for the pleasure of pushing him down again. This repeated treatment, of his body slamming into the ground, forced tears to the corner of Merlin's eyes, especially as the men's boots began to draw blood from his sides.

"Please-" he gasped, curling away from the blows, his eyes scrunched shut. And then, to his great surprise, they stopped. Merlin's ears were ringing, which was why he didn't hear a man yell "hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" but he opened his eyes, just so he could peer up through his eyelashes. All he could see was that another man had joined the party. He had no idea whether this was good or bad, but was inclined to feel relieved that the beating had stopped. Then, the newcomer plunged his sword into the gut of another, just as he was about to stamp down on Merlin's arm. Then, Merlin's saviour turned to the leader. The father. Merlin's chest constricted for a second, with the pain of flinging out one of his bloody hands and grabbing the man's leg.

"No," he rasped, "he has a daughter." The words were torn from him: he knew what it was like to lose a father and wasn't going to put a young child, however horrible, through the same torture. His rescuer lowered his sword, and then said some threatening words to the other men, that Merlin was oblivious to. A few moments later, they all moved away, apart from the newcomer.

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><p>Gwaine fell beside Merlin and gently lifted his head up so that it rested on his knees.<p>

"Merlin?" he said, "can you hear me, mate?" Merlin, to his slight shame, let out a pathetic whimper and then struggled, like he was trying to get away, "Merlin, open your eyes. It's me! Gwaine," and Merlin's eyelids flicked, so that he looked into Gwaine's face. He let out a small gust of air, an audible sigh.

"Gwaine," he murmured.

"That's right," Gwaine said, putting one of Merlin's arms around his shoulders and getting to his feet, "it's alright. We'll get you somewhere safe-"

"If by safe... you mean 'a tavern' there's one... nearby. I passed it... earlier..." Merlin gasped, his lips twisting upwards slightly. Gwaine laughed, amazed at Merlin's ability to make jokes (however accurate) when he was obviously in a lot of pain.

"You read me like a book," Gwaine said, "now try not to talk for a bit, Ok?" Merlin nodded, and then instantly regretted it. It felt as if his skull had contracted.

A few moments later and Gwaine had located the tavern. Once inside, Merlin's large and, at this moment, very sensitive ears were assaulted by the sounds of yelling, raucous laughter, and tankards slamming down on rough, wooden table tops. Merlin groaned and pressed his face into Gwaine's shoulder. Gwaine immediately beckoned over a nearby barmaid. She bustled over and stared at Merlin in shock.

"We don't want no trouble," she said, taking in the blood on both men's clothing.

"I know, love, and you won't get any. I just need a quiet place where my friend can rest." Gwaine gave the barmaid one of his most charming smiles and she couldn't help but smile back at the handsome stranger.

"Of course," she said, "just through here." And she led them through a door at the back, which led into a little room, with the walls lined with barrels of ale and the floor scattered with straw.

"Thank you," Gwaine said, gratefully, as the woman slipped back out and shut the door behind her. Gwaine then kicked some of the straw into a pile, and lay Merlin down on top.

"Why won't you learn to look after yourself, Merlin, and start telling people that you're not a human target for practising on?" he inquired. Merlin grinned,

"Because it's telling them that'll make them go for me," he replied.

"Stop trying to be clever." Gwaine said.

"I'm not," Merlin said, "it comes naturally." Gwaine let out a bark of laughter, and then pulled a flask from his bag. Merlin eyed it hopefully. Gwaine laughed again and ordered,

"Head up, Merlin. The last thing we'd want is for you to choke on a mouthful of liquor- especially as how I just kicked ass for you back there." Merlin snorted with laughter and then raised his head to receive the only remedy Gwaine had brought with him. The icy trickle of alcohol stung the back of his throat, and he coughed.

"What _is _that?" He asked, even while puckering his lips for more. Gwaine grinned but put the stopper back in the flask, after taking a swig himself. Merlin sunk back onto the straw in disappointment.

"Not sure," Gwaine admitted, smacking his lips, "only that it's some of the strongest stuff I could find. Now, let's take a look at you."

"What?" Merlin asked, looking at his friend. Gwaine reached forward and lifted his shirt. Merlin considered pushing his hand away, but was curious to see the damage himself. He heard Gwaine gasp and curse and then leaned over, to take a look. It wasn't pretty: there was blood, trickling from grazes in his sides and bruises everywhere. His hands were also bloody from where the men's feet had stamped down on them and torn away nails in the process. Luckily, nothing appeared to be broken although it was, as Gwaine whistled through his teeth, "a miracle." Merlin slumped back once more and winced.

"I've had worse." Was all he could say. It was true, but it didn't stop the sudden look of rage forming on Gwaine's face.

"You've had _worse_?" he roared, "Merlin, you've been beaten half to death and all you can say is that you've had _worse_?"

"Well, I have," Merlin said, defensively. Gwaine sprang to his feet.

"I'm going to go back and _kill _them!" He said, fiercely.

"No," Merlin cried, "Gwaine, please stay." Merlin's voice cracked a little, and Gwaine paused at the heartbreaking plea. With a sigh he turned back to his friend.

"Fine," he grumbled, sitting back beside him, "but you have to tell me why I've got letter from Gaius saying you've been kidnapped." Merlin's expression twisted into one of guilt.

"I... I needed some space." He said, after a moment. Gwaine sighed,

"You couldn't have let him know, could you? He sounds pretty damn worried. And so does Arthur."

"Arthur?" Merlin's eyes snapped back to Gwaine's.

"Yeah. He's been sent to his room for trying to come after you," he sniggered, but stopped when he realised Merlin wasn't laughing with him.

"I can't go back, not yet, Gwaine." Merlin said, firmly. Gwaine shrugged,

"That's fine with me. Care to tell me where you're going though? I could let Gaius know then..." Merlin hesitated.

"It's... private." He said, finally. He chanced a look at Gwaine, who didn't manage to dispel his hurt expression in time.

"Well," he said, "I'm not one to pry, but I think I already know anyway."

"What?" Merlin stared at him.

"The Circus of Sorcery, right? I've heard that you have to have magic to get invited to one of those things. But hey, it's just rumours I've picked up..." Gwaine trailed off, suddenly feeling guilty at the terrified look on Merlin's face.

"That's not where I'm going," Merlin said, instantly.

"You're not a very good liar, are you?" Gwaine sighed, but smiling, kindly, "I _know_ Merlin. I could hear those thugs," he jerked his thumb towards the door, indicating the men Merlin had recently been in contact with, "yelling 'sorcerer' from a mile away." Merlin paled,

"I'm not a sorcerer," he said, firmly. Gwaine frowned,

"It's alright, Merlin. I don't give a damn, to be frank. You're a good man; that's all that matters." Merlin shook his head,

"I'm not a sorcerer," he repeated, "I'm a warlock." There was a silence, and then Gwaine grinned.

"That's pretty cool, you know?" he said. Merlin let out a shaky laugh.

"Yeah." He said, not believing how easily Gwaine was accepting him, "I s'pose it is." He only wished he could be so confident about telling Arthur.

* * *

><p>After that, Gwaine didn't ask anymore about Merlin having magic. He didn't need to: he understood everything about why Merlin had kept it a secret. There was no way of telling what would happen if Arthur found out, but <em>he<em> was sure as hell not telling anyone. Instead, Merlin told Gwaine about the invite to the circus and how it made him invisible and kept him safe on the path. Gwaine frowned, deep in thought, when Merlin had finished.

"Wait..." he said, "so this letter thingy keeps you on the path _no matter what_?"

"Yup," Merlin said.

"Where is it?" Gwaine asked.

"In my inside pocket," Merlin said, and Gwaine gingerly took the letter. Merlin gasped from pain as his arm brushed over his stomach, where the most bruises were.

"Sorry," Gwaine murmured. Merlin shook his head, indicating that Gwaine shouldn't worry. Gwaine was silent for a moment, looking at the paper, and then a grin spread over his face, "Merlin," he said, "I think I know how to get you better!"

* * *

><p><em>So what do you think? I was a bit nervous about letting Gwaine find out about Merlin's secret, and I'm not sure if I got his reaction right, but I like to think that he'd just accept Merlin straight away, and just laugh it off. Also, I think that Gwaine should know because well... him and Merlin are besties :D I know Lancelot knows but Lancey has Gwen and whatnot. I dunno... just thought that Merlin would trust Gwaine enough to tell him. ANYWAY I'm going to stop rambling :D OH, just one more thing: I believe I told someone that I would be writing about the actual circus very soon, and I was aiming to do that in this chapter, but I didn't want to rush it or have it too short, so I guess you'll all be waiting till next time :p<em>

_Ok, officially going to go now. BYE!_


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter took quite a bit of effort, so I hope you like it... I didn't really go back and edit it though so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes :s Also, it might get a little confusing towards the end, but it should become clear in chapter 5 :) Please review :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Gwaine's idea was simple. He pressed the envelope into Merlin's hand and said,

"Surely this invite wouldn't let injuries get in the way?" Merlin stared at Gwaine and then his face split into a wide smile,

"That, Gwaine, is genius!" he cried. Gwaine chuckled, and shook his head modestly. Merlin pressed his finger to the stamp and, instantly, everything blurred. To his right, on the floor, was that clear, safe line. Immediately, he dragged himself over to it, gasping in pain as his injuries scraped against the straw strewn floor. But, once on the line, he was filled with light relief. He looked down at his hands, and watched as his nails began to grow back, healing and leaving his fingers covered with dry blood, but no longer throbbing. Likewise, he looked at his chest and stomach and saw his skin re-growing where it had broken, and the bruises fading. He got to his feet, and turned to stare, incredulously, at Gwaine, but Gwaine was still looking at the straw where Merlin had been laying. Merlin remembered that Gwaine couldn't see him. He used the invite to reveal himself once more and then sprang forwards to Gwaine's side, and embraced him in a brotherly hug. Gwaine smiled, and then said,

"You better get going, mate. I'll let Gaius know you're safe." Merlin looked at him and whispered,

"I wish you could come."

"Haha, a magic circus? I have to say, sounds exciting, I'll be fine here, making sure Arthur doesn't make even more of a prat of himself by coming after you." He rolled his eyes, but Merlin's expression became troubled.

"Gwaine," he said, quiet and serious, "Arthur... he _can't _know about me-"

"I know," Gwaine said, quickly, "you're secret's safe with me, Merlin. Trust me." Merlin hesitated: trust was something he wasn't very good at giving away. This was mostly because he'd had too much experience of it being thrown back in his face. Look at Morgana. But then, Merlin reasoned, he hadn't exactly always been there for her either. He gazed at Gwaine, and then felt guilty for pausing.

"I do trust you." He said. Gwaine smiled, looking relieved.

"Get out of here, then," he laughed, "and _try _and stay out of trouble, will you?" Merlin gave him one last, full and true, smile then hurried from the tavern, his bag slung on his back.

After a few hours, when the sky had grown dark once more, and Merlin had been following the path for what felt like forever, he felt the familiar burning on his chest. He pulled out the letter, and saw a new message had formed:

_You have one day, Emrys._

And Merlin picked up the pace. One day till what, he wondered?

* * *

><p>Gwaine's message arrived in Camelot mere hours after it was sent, and Arthur poured over it, trying to find a hidden meaning in the drunken scrawl:<p>

_Hey, Arty, Gaius,_

_Merlin's great. Gaius you were right! I met up with him, he's perfectly happy, lovely, smiley and FAR TOO GOOD to be stuck in Camelot with you, Arthur. Anyway, don't bother coming after him with none of your knights- he'll be back soon._

_Your faithful servant hunter down, Gwaine._

But he couldn't find anything cryptic. Only what was stated: Merlin was safe and alive and he _hadn't _been kidnapped. He slammed his fist down on the table, with such force that one of the wooden legs splintered. Damn the stupid, reckless, frustrating-

"IDIOT!" Arthur yelled the last line, furiously.

Gaius, however, gathered more meaning from the note: _Gaius you were right! _Gaius took this to mean that yes, Merlin was going to the Circus of Sorcery. He only prayed that Merlin would stay safe and be back soon, before he was gone so long that Uther ordered a new servant to be found, as he was already suggesting, after barely a day!

* * *

><p>Merlin knew he had reached his destination, when the landscape changed. It was like he had stepped through some strange, invisible barrier: one minute he was strolling down a country lane, and the next he was in a forest clearing, and the path vanished. Everything was clear and bright, and straight ahead was an immense black gate. Merlin squinted up at it as it towered above him. Across the top of the gate, in twisted metal, black letters, it said:<p>

_The Circus of Sorcery_

Merlin frowned: there was no sign of a circus anywhere, just the trees and the gate. He walked to it and looked through the bars: on the other side was just more of the clearing. What was this? Merlin walked all the way around the gate before coming to the conclusion that that was all it was: a gate, in the middle of a forest, that led nowhere.

He sighed, wondering if this was going to be where his journey ended, when there was a metallic clicking noise. Merlin looked and saw that a letter box had appeared on the far right of the gate. Attached was a black sign, reading: _Invite Here_. Merlin took the invite from his pocket and slipped it through the gap. He watched to see it fall through, onto the ground behind the gate, but it never did. Instead, and very suddenly, the gate gave an ominous groan and began to swing _outwards_. Merlin gasped and ran backwards to avoid being swept up by the heavy material. He only just managed to get out of the way, and even then was hit, not by the sweeping metal, but by a blinding, harsh light, which seemed to tear the very flesh from his bones. He gave a loud cry and raised his arms to shield his face. Words were roaring in his ears, and he could barely make them out: it was few minutes before he realised that it was a song, sung by a hundred scratchy, screeching voices:

_Welcome to the Circus,_

_Boy of future myths,_

_The gold in your iris _

_Speaks of only this:_

_You came here on a whim_

_But you shall not regret_

_For though you left the future king_

_You'll get a show you won't forget_

Then the music died, suddenly, and so did the light. Merlin shrugged his pointy shoulders, a curious half smile playing on his lips, and walked straight through the gate...

* * *

><p>It felt as though he had been struck in the stomach with one of Arthur's maces. He could feel it piercing his skin with clean, spaced out spikes, and the metal ball winding him. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor, his back arched. But, somehow, it wasn't pain: it was cool water, refreshing and polishing his senses. It was magic.<p>

Merlin had always had an acute sense of when magic was nearby. He got a strange, burst of light, inside his head, which tingled and alerted him of the sorcerer's presence, and what he felt now was like that, but a hundred times worse and all over his body. He was exploding with it. And it was wonderful, and he was screaming and laughing in the moment of pure enchantment. Then, it passed, like his body adjusted, and he could stand once more. He didn't realise that his eyes were burning gold; he was too busy gazing, in awe, around him.

He was still in the clearing, but it was much, much bigger. And louder. There were people everywhere, although none of them paid any attention to Merlin: no doubt they were used to people arriving in a similar fashion. And then, there were animals. Merlin gaped as creatures the size of Kilgharrah galumphed past, with leathery, scaly or slimy skin and insects the size of your fist crawled along the floor, their shells and skin changing colour or sprouting wings or shedding, leaving a shiny purple path in their wake. He gingerly walked around them, his eyes wide. Above him flew both animals _and _people, gliding through the air with either wings or magic keeping them up.

The sky seemed to be having a battle with itself as it switched indecisively from bright and blue to dark and stormy. Merlin had a look around and saw the source of the mayhem: two old wizards were arguing, heatedly, and gesticulating wildly. One was set on having a sunny day, while the other wanted rain. Merlin laughed and held his hands above him, sending a bright light up amongst the clouds, which instantly cleared. Then, he let the rain fall, even though there was nothing for it to fall from. It simply came down, even while the sun hung there, watching. The two wizards stopped arguing as they both got what they asked for, and as a rainbow appeared. People all about Merlin began to applaud at the young Warlock's talent, and he flushed with pleasure. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that it was night time, and the sun shouldn't be there at all.

"That was incredible," Merlin heard a voice in his ear. He spun around to see a girl, looking at him with wide, amber, ale-coloured eyes. Merlin stumbled over his reply,

"It- it was nothing," he said, going even more pink. She smiled and said,

"Have you been inside yet?"

"Inside?" Merlin frowned.

"Yes. Inside the tent?" and she pointed ahead of them, to where a magnificent circus tent stood, embossed with the words: _Circus of Sorcery_, in blazing gold letters. The tent's canvas was striped blood red, majestic purple and sunshine yellow, with a traditional shape which pointed at the top and had a wide, circular base.

"No," Merlin whispered, his throat dry with anticipation. He felt as though he had been living for the moment that he would pass through that cloth entrance. He looked at the girl.

"Have you?" he asked. She shook her head,

"I didn't want to... by myself." Merlin understood: it was an intimidating sight. Ever the thoughtful young man, even when with a stranger, he said,

"We'll go in together." And she nodded, "my name's Merlin, by the way." The girl smiled, shyly.

"I'm Sarah." She said.

* * *

><p>Morgause was proud of the circus. She'd been planning it for a while: three days to get all of the most powerful, or potentially powerful, sorcerers in one place. Three days because she wasn't prepared to wait any longer than that. Once everyone was there, there would be the same amount of time again, to prepare them for (and let them know) what she had in mind. She had sent out the invites, using a magic which meant they would find who they were intended for no matter what. She had even, without much hope, invited the illusive Emrys. Everyone had heard of the great Warlock, although she had never heard of anyone who had met him: the man who was meant to bring magic back to Camelot. The druids held much store by him, but Morgause doubted he even existed. But, if there was a chance of convincing such a powerful source to join her, it was worth sending the invitation.<p>

It surprised her greatly, then, when a piece of parchment zoomed into her lap: it was Emrys' invitation, which meant he had arrived. She stared at it for a moment, her brown eyes filled with shock. Then she sprang to her feet and ran to the window of the tower she'd had set up, which saw over the whole circus. She peered outside, expecting to see a wizened, wise old man. What she did see, however, was a boy, shooting fire into the air, his golden eyes emblazoned with happiness. _Merlin. _She couldn't believe it. _Merlin: _Arthur's loyal servant. Morgause's fingers tightened on the window sill, her knuckles turning white as she realised she didn't have three days to convince Emrys to join her: she had three days to break his devoted spirit.

* * *

><p><em>So... did my circus live up to your expectations? Sorry if not :s... I guess they haven't been inside the actual<em>_tent yet, but still :) And, did you recognise Sarah, from chapter 2? I decided that I didn't want to waste her character... I have some plans for Sarah :D Lastly, I apologise for my no doubt appalling poetry... hopefully it didn't kill the chapter for you, but I felt a bit poetic at the time :s THANKS FOR READING :D_


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm glad people seemed to like my description of the Circus so far :D There's a bit more of that in this chapter too :) Also, some mixed reactions about Morgause from you guys, but that's all cool. Oh, and ARTHUR'S BACK! In this chapter I mean :D Please enjoy and review!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"Father, I don't _need _a new servant!" Arthur's hands were placed, squarely, on the long, oak table. He was on his feet, as was his father, who stood at the other end. Uther scoffed,

"Tell me again, Arthur, did you give the boy leave?" he asked. Arthur hesitated a second too long, and the King's expression went from thunderous to smug in a second.

"It does not matter... I was going to give him some time off anyway," Arthur lied, "when he gets back he can just go in the stocks for a few hours-" Arthur relished the thought "and then get back to work."

"Arthur, the only thing you can do with a lazy servant is get rid of him. Why you can't understand that is beyond me."

"_Mer_lin isn't lazy." Arthur stated, even though it pained him, unconsciously saying the man's name in that familiar, jokingly patronising way, even though he wasn't there. Uther glared at his son for a moment, before rolling his shoulders: shrugging but still managing to look majestic. Arthur knew that this was not the end but, for now, they had other things to discuss.

Such as the rumours.

Rumours and whispers spreading around Camelot, seeping into people's ears and then out of their mouths. Talk of a plan. A plan to kill the King.

"I will not have my own people rise against me," Uther said, firmly and aggressively, once his full council had arrived. There were murmurs of agreement. One elderly man made a suggestion,

"Have you noticed, Your Highness, that these rumours started when people began to disappear?" Uther frowned.

"Yes, I have. And it is my opinion that these people have not been taken at all. They have left, like my son's servant," and Uther nodded towards Arthur, "and are leading this revolt!"

"Wait, father," Arthur jumped in, aghast at how quickly the conversation had turned to rebellion, "there has been no sign of a revolt: the people of Camelot _are _loyal to their King. And if you are suggesting that Merlin has something to do-"

"Yes, Arthur, that is what I was suggesting. But, for once, this isn't about your idiot servant: this is about the Kingdom. Whether he is involved or not, I believe we are in danger."

"Father, there is no way on earth that Merlin is involved." Arthur said, stubbornly. Surely, his father could not believe that Merlin had the brains or the courage to lead a revolution! Well... maybe Merlin wasn't short of courage, but the boy couldn't wield a sword to save his life. And, sometimes, he could be smart. But it was a rare occurrence.

"Arthur, if you will not be silent, you must leave." Uther growled at the Prince, whose jaw dropped in outrage.

"My input has worth, father. Do not send me away for speaking my mind, when I could be right." Uther's eyebrows rose at being challenged in such a way, but he worked subtly, finding a way to make Arthur leave without telling him outright: after a few minutes he sent the stubborn child to search the town for any signs of sorcery because, of course, there would be sorcerers involved in this crime above all crimes.

* * *

><p>Merlin stood a little closer to Sarah, so that they were shoulder to shoulder, facing the tent determinedly. A shiver ran down Sarah's spine, and Merlin felt it, vibrating through the air. Then they walked forwards, together, through the multicoloured air, thick with flying beasts and insects. Once directly outside the canvas entrance, Merlin cast Sarah a wide, trusting smile, which she returned, tentatively. Then, Merlin pushed aside the canvas, and they went inside.<p>

It was rather disorientating: although they had come through an entrance on the ground, they were at least twenty feet up in the air, on a wooden platform which went around the perimeter of the tent, spirally downwards back to the ground. There were no seats on this floor but, down below, they could see chairs covered in blue and purple velvet, which were also around the edge of the tent: in the middle was a clear, circular space, covered in sand like an arena. Practically every seat was filled and, where Merlin and Sarah were, everyone was standing, milling around and squeezing into nonexistent spaces: it was completely packed. Merlin grasped Sarah's hand to make sure she didn't get lost amongst the crowds of people, and pulled her through till they were pressed up against an iron bar. They could see people across the tent, some of whom waved, laughingly. Sarah and Merlin giggled and waved back, feeling completely at home with the friendly and mysterious atmosphere.

They stayed there, waiting for something to happen. More and more people appeared: it was like they could sense a show was starting, without anything telling them. At one point, a woman came around, with a monkey in a spangled suit sitting on her shoulder, selling popcorn, a substance that Merlin had never heard of, let alone tried. When he told the woman she stared at him, incredulous , and then gave him a large free sample, which he shared with Sarah. They munched at them, Merlin throwing the butter puffs into his mouth with surprising skill and accuracy. Whenever one touched his tongue it made a delightful 'popping' noise and soon the whole tent was filled with the sound of popcorn exploding when in contact with a sorcerer's saliva.

And then, after around twenty minutes, and very suddenly, all the lights died. Silence fell, apart from the odd 'pop' as Merlin couldn't help but swallow a few more pieces of popcorn.

"Arthur, look!" he gasped, pointing down to the arena. Sarah looked at him, bemused, and Merlin suddenly remembered that Arthur wasn't with him. He blushed and muttered, "sorry," before turning his attention back to the arena, which had, inexplicably, disappeared, leaving nothing but a gaping hole of blackness. There were intakes of breath from all around and people in the front row scrambled out of their seats and jumped backwards. Then, a burst of light shot up from the dark, a string of fire which flew right up to where Merlin and Sarah stood, agape. It twisted and span, emitting sparks and bangs, before plummeting back down and out of sight. And now there was a real, solid silence, that even Merlin couldn't imagine breaking.

* * *

><p>Once Merlin had left the tavern, in his newly healed skin and his bag on his back, Gwaine had felt somewhat lost... that was until he ordered a tankard of mead, which he drank in no less than four mouthfuls. It had taken some self control to just leave the village after that, and not hunt down the worthless bastards who had gone after Merlin. What made Gwaine even more furious, though, was that they had been right: Merlin had magic. Of course, that didn't change Gwaine's opinion of his friend, it was just that Merlin could have saved himself, had he wanted to. Did the kid have a death wish? No. He just had a master who thought magic was pure evil and who happened to be the Prince of Camelot. Gwaine kicked grumpily at a pebble and watched it skid away, gouging a thin line out of the dusty track.<p>

After a few hours, he returned to the tavern he'd been staying at before receiving Gaius' letter. He vaguely remembered there being a pretty girl there, who might be happy to spend some time with him. God, he'd had a rough day and could do with some cheering up. So, he went inside and strode straight up to the bar, where he sat, slumped forwards in exhaustion. He glanced about for the girl, whom he now recalled having a pair of stunning, amber eyes, but he couldn't see her. Feeling unreasonably depressed, he glared morosely at the barman's back, waiting for him to turn around and ask him what he wanted. Normally, Gwaine would be on first name terms, and would cheerfully call the man over, who would then smile and presume to get Gwaine's 'usual' order. But today, Gwaine didn't have it in him. Instead he waited, for a whole two minutes, before yelling,

"Hey! What do I have to do to get some service round here?"

The tavern went quiet, as all eyes turned to stare at Gwaine, the smell of a fight already rising into the air. The barman turned, slowly, and Gwaine noticed he had the same eye colour of the girl. Then he remembered: they were father and daughter. The man looked for a moment as though he would laugh the comment off and get Gwaine a drink; there was even the beginnings of a smile on his lips, but then it seemed he recognised the customer, and the half smile turned into a grimace. Gwaine stood up, wondering whether he ought to just leave, but the barman was surprisingly agile, and he was round the bar in a few moments, shoving his face in Gwaine's.

"Where is my daughter?" he spat. Gwaine's eyes widened as he rubbed away the flecks of spit from his cheeks. He wondered how much he would pay for his answer:

"I haven't a clue."

* * *

><p><em>Just a quick note: I realise that they probably didn't have popcorn back in medieval times but, hey! Artistic liscence and all that :p Hope you didn't mind that it was a bit out of place, but I felt the circus wouldn't be complete without a sparkly monkey selling snacks :D <em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Aw, I think that I got some of my favourite reviews for chapter 5 so thanks everyone :D And CeeRat, here's some virtual magic popcorn *hands you some delicieux popping popcorn* and anyone else who wants a piece, help yourself :) _

_I really went all out with this chapter, because I wanted to make the circus as magical as possible... I kind of want you to feel like you're there but I don't know if I quite managed :s Please review :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Merlin stared at the gaping hole, far below him, and felt Sarah clutch at his sleeve, half in excitement and half in apprehension: the whole tent was anticipating whatever was going to happen next.

Suddenly, the black hole began to widen, making people scream as they ran out of its path of destruction, as it swallowed everything in its way: chairs, bags and purses, which people had unwittingly left under their seats. Merlin's eyes widened, as he raised his hand, tentatively, wondering if he should cast some sort of spell to protect the people, or whether this was all part of the act...

And then, out of the darkness, something began to rise, up and up, a huge carriage, painted the lightest of blue, so that it was more like white with a tint. It looked like a cloud, with windows, through which several faces peered, but no one could quite see who they were. The carriage was supported by a pair of great, white wings which, every time they beat up and down, sent a sweet smelling waft of air towards the audience, like perfume. The black hole had closed, and people found themselves leaning forwards, trying to smell it, and see the people. After a few moments, the carriage doors opened, and two women stepped out. There was a gasp as everyone waited for them to plummet to the ground, but they did not. They simply hovered, _walking on air_, till they stood on the two wings. From there, they did a series of spectacular acrobatics, spiralling through space, twirling and dancing, with absolutely nothing to support them. The audience cheered and whooped, and Merlin was perhaps the loudest, clapping wildly.

When the women reached the ground, they took a bow, and then the floor opened, for a second, and they vanished. After them, a huge man stepped from the carriage, and Merlin wondered how he could have fit. He did _not _float down gracefully but dropped, straight onto his face. There were murmurs of concern, and some people laughed out loud. Merlin leant even further over the bar, trying desperately to see. He let out a sigh of relief as the man got to his feet, totally unharmed and bowed. There was more laughter, as people clapped, and then the man began to punch at the floor, his great fists pounding the ground again and again, his muscles bulging, till it gave way. Instead of opening wide enough for him to fall like the acrobats, however, the ground spat something out: a tiny kitten. The audience snickered and giggled at the sight of such a huge man, faced with such a small animal. But then, the man raised a hand, signalling for silence, and the audience gave it, waiting with bated breath. The man knelt down, so that he was eye level with the kitten. He then whispered some words, which ruffled its soft fur. Merlin stared, his mouth hanging open, as the animal began to grow, getting bigger and bigger, and _changing _so that, in a matter of minutes, it was a huge lion, and was roaring with such ferocity that people in the front rows (their chairs had magically returned) flinched. But, the man didn't fight the lion, instead they began to dance, the thuds of feet and paws sending arcs of sand through the air. Merlin heard Sarah give a little "oh." At the strange beauty of it.

After the man and the lion, came a whole chorus of tiny little people, with wings: fairies that, from a distance, looked pretty but, when they came up close, you could see their twisted, angry expressions. The lights in the tent went out, so that you could clearly see the yellow glow they emitted as they soared through the air, forming a variety of shapes, ranging from obvious things like trees and houses, to depicting members of the audience. Merlin gasped in delight, as his own face was created from their glowing bodies.

Then there was a young girl, scattering seeds around the arena, which grew in seconds into huge trees bearing fruits and flowers so that people on higher levels could reach out and pick them. Merlin plucked a peach from the nearest branch and, with a small smile, pressed it into Sarah's hands.

There were so many acts it was hard to keep count: a man with razor sharp hands, who chopped down all the trees and turned them into dust, adding to the sand. A woman who could make birds appear from thin air when she sang. A little boy, looking around five years old, who picked up full grown members of the audience and ran with them, carrying them around the arena and then flying up with them, while they clung to his tiny body in awe and fear. At one point, he flew up so he was in front of Sarah. He held out his hands and smiled at her. Sarah beamed and glanced at Merlin who gave her an encouraging nod. She took the child's hands and her mouth fell open: they were hard as rock. The boy's smile widened, and he pulled her into his arms and flew her several times around the tent while the audience cheered. Then he returned the slightly breathless Sarah to where she stood, next to Merlin, and swooped down through the ground.

No one seemed to know how long the show went on for: no one cared because everyone would have been happy to sit and watch for the rest of their lives. But it had to come to an end. A voice rang through the tents, reverberating off the canvas:

"As the Circus of Sorcery draws to an end, we have one final act for you: please welcome... _Morgause..._" Merlin didn't hear the end of the sentence. The audience roared their approval at the show being not quite over, but Merlin didn't hear that either. Sarah's smile slackened as she looked up at Merlin's face, his usual pleasant, friendly features marred by an expression of horror.

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><p>The barman let out a roar of fury, seizing Gwaine's lapels and shaking him roughly. Gwaine raised his eyebrows and attempted to prise the fingers off him, but they wouldn't budge.<p>

"_You _were last seen with her! What have you done with her you worthless-"

"Nothing!" Gwaine yelled, squeezing his eyes shut to try and remember; to make sure he really had nothing to do with the girl's disappearance. When he was certain his eyes snapped open and he said, "nope; I really didn't do anything this time. Now, if you would kindly let go of me, we can discuss her whereabouts over something to drink. Something strong mind-"

"Shut up," the barman growled, but he let go of Gwaine "and sit down." Gwaine hesitated and then sat back on his stool. The barman grunted in satisfaction and stomped back around to behind the bar. He poured two mugs of ale and set one before Gwaine, and drained the other himself. Gwaine watched, bemused, before following suit and pouring the liquid down the back of his throat.

"My name is Godfrey," the barman said, roughly, once the drink was gone. Gwaine remained silent, till he got the meaning from Godfrey's glare.

"Oh, um, I'm Gwaine," he said.

"Listen to me _Gwaine_," Godfrey said his name in a way that told Gwaine he doubted that was his real name, "my daughter has gone off gallivanting enough times so that I'm beyond caring. Except that I _do _care when she leaves, taking all her belongings with her. God, I know my daughter isn't perfect... damaged goods, some would say, but so are half the men out there, and they don't get none of the stick women do, so I still have the right to be scared senseless when my child goes missing. What I'm asking of you is what any father in his right mind would ask: as the last man to be seen with her, I see it as part of your _duty _to find her. I will come with you and we will leave at dawn, if she is not back by then." Gwaine stared, softened at how the barman had poured out his heart like that, and at his obvious affection for his daughter.

"Of course, I'll help," Gwaine agreed, his noble side, and a bit of his hammered side too, shining through.

* * *

><p>Arthur strode around Camelot, his stomach clenching in anger at every whisper.<p>

"His servant ran away... yes, that's what I heard. Leading an army if you'd believe it! I thought he was such a nice boy too..." news had travelled quickly: suddenly Merlin, who had but a few days ago, been very popular amongst the lower town, was being viewed as some kind of traitor. Arthur had actually seen one young man _preaching _about how no one could be trusted, even members of the royal household, and that a revolution was coming. Word had spread that magic was returning to the Kingdom. Where these ideas had sprouted from, Arthur had no clue, but he wouldn't stand for it. He had marched over to the man and wrenched him down from the crate on which he stood.

"If I hear you saying such things _ever _again, I will personally see you brought to the King," the youth trembled, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to feel guilty, "what you are saying suggests that you do not believe my father can control his own people. That is bordering on treason." He then flung the man away from him, and continued on his way.

_Why _was Merlin _such _an idiot? And why, when he wasn't around, did everything seem to go wrong? When that boy got back he would get a lecture he would never forget. He would be thrown in the stocks for a month. He would _never _live down what he was doing to Arthur at that moment. Dammit! Why did Arthur miss the fool so much?

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><p><em>Aw, poor Arthur misses Merlin :( And Merlin is in a bit of trouble. In fact, it looks like everyone is :s Did you like the show? Well, I hope you did :) Thanks for reading :D<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_You guys! Your reviews are getting more lovely with every chapter I swear :D I'm really pleased that most of you enjoyed the show :) And, thanks to Ringo'simaginarycat for the advice about the paragraphing... I've been told about it before and seem to have trouble getting it right... it looks all spiffing on microsoft and then it goes on fanfiction and WHAM. Clumpy paragraphs :s Well, I've tried to space 'em out for you- hope it's all right :D Also, cheers Uraanwe and Polithia and CeeRat, my lovely unsigned reviewees for chapter 6 :)_

_Lastly, just thought I'd say how I loved the way some of your morals shone through when you saw what Godfrey said about his daughter being 'damaged goods'... hope you forgive him... or maybe you won't like him at all... at the end of this chapter._

_Warnings: bit o' swearing towards the end of this chappie. Hence the 'T' rating :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Merlin backed away, seizing Sarah's hand and motioning for her to stay close. 'Follow me,' his blue eyes said, as they looked into her amber ones 'trust me.' And she clung on, slipping past the sorcerers and warlocks, pressing around them to see the new, beautiful apparition that was Morgause. She felt confused, and she could feel the magic inside her twisting uncomfortably in her stomach: like Merlin, she hadn't asked for the gift. She'd been born with it. Unlike Merlin, she found it almost impossible to control, and confusion was one of the emotions which forced it out.

Merlin felt Sarah's grip slacken in his, and then felt her pull away.

"Sarah," he began, turning to urge her onwards. He stopped when he saw her terrified expression, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip and her eyes stretched wide, showing all the white.

"Merlin..." she whispered and, suddenly, she was gasping. Merlin doubled back, putting an arm around her shoulder. He had no idea what was wrong with her, but they _had _to get out. Together, they fumbled through the crowds, pushing and shoving, till they reached the tent flaps. At first, Merlin felt apprehensive about stepping out of the tent so high up but, with the tiniest of shrugs from his shoulders, he went through.

At once, the air rushed up and it felt like he was falling... but he wasn't. He and Sarah were on the ground and they were _standing_. The entrance was behind them. Merlin looked at Sarah, and by her aghast expression, guessed that she had experienced the same, slightly nauseating, feeling. This did not help with controlling her powers.

* * *

><p>Morgause stepped from the carriage in a swirl of gold leaf, which covered her body and then grew from her, stretching out to members of the audience, entwining them in its glittering vines, but softly so that they could easily break free. All the while, Morgause was distracted. Typical, she thought, that the idiot serving boy would ruin this moment for her: she had been planning for weeks, <em>months <em>even, and now she couldn't concentrate because somewhere out there, she had revealed herself to Merlin. She cast around, and spotted him, hurrying to exit the tent.

She smirked and whispered a command back to a sorcerer she had picked up a few days: he was not particularly powerful, but could be when he was in a rage. Instead of putting effort into learning magic, he had learnt to wield a sword and earned his living by cage fighting in taverns. Consequently, he was thick set, with bulging muscles and a wide neck. He was almost as big as the Lion Dancer.

"Aaron," she hissed back to where he sat, awaiting orders in the carriage, "have men ready outside. If they see a boy with black hair, tell them to seize him and take him to the cage. There's no need for them to be gentle about it," she hesitated before continuing, "and tell them to bring the shackles. He could be dangerous."

Aaron relayed the message, quickly, to the fairies, which glowed and spat angrily. They didn't appreciate being used as messenger boys. Aaron swatted at them, furiously, and one of the fairies, instantly, lay dead in his palm. The others took one look at the tiny body, and then dimmed their lights so as not to be noticed by the people outside, and sped to fetch the men, who would capture the boy.

Morgause's voice echoed through the tent: "my fellow sorcerers, warlock and witches, I hope you have enjoyed the show," there was a resounding cheer from the audience. Morgause smiled, indulgently "and I'm sure that you would like to see many more in the future," another round of applause, "but, of course, in a world such as ours and in a Kingdom such as _Camelot_, there is unlikely to be another Circus of Sorcery any time soon." At the mention of Camelot, a low hiss of anger rang true, "it is not the people of Camelot, however. Is it?" Morgause intended her question to be rehetorical, but someone stood up and screamed:

"Uther Pendragon!" and there was a roar of anger. Morgause's smile widened, surprised at how easily she had managed to work the crowd up into a frenzy of rebellion.

"It is because of _Uther Pendragon_," she spat his name, "that I set up this circus. I knew that we would be better than him, more powerful than him, when we were together. And now, here we are. I have given you a show: what will you give me in return?" there was a hesitant silence as people looked at one another, unsure. Morgause pressed on,

"what will you give Uther in return for murdering your loved ones in the Great Purge? What will you give him in return for forcing you into hiding, for burning your friends at the stake? Will it be mercy? Will you leave him be, as you have done all these years? Will you go home, and live on the outskirts of the great city because you are too afraid to enter it? Or will you prove to the so called 'King of Camelot' that you are worth more than _any _royalty? That _we _are worth more!" she screamed the last words, and people began to stand, some jumping from the top levels, and then softening their fall with a quick spell, and others simply rushing forwards, all staring up at her. Within ten minutes, they had all pledged their allegiance to the cause.

While Morgause was talking, the fairies flew back to Aaron, to relay the message:

_The boy is not alone. He has another sorcerer with him_.

Aaron cast a weary glance at Morgana, who was too busy wrapping the audience up with her twisted ideas to give him any more orders. He shrugged and said, gruffly, "get 'em both."

* * *

><p>Sarah shook, violently, and Merlin watched as, all around them, things began to grow, shooting up from the ground: at first it was just sweet smelling flowers, but then they died and instead turned into vines, bearing grisly thorns, with red tips. Sarah tried to make it stop, but she couldn't. The thorns crept up on them both, snagging painfully on their skin and clothing. Merlin stepped forwards and placed his hand on Sarah's shoulder's, staring into her eyes.<p>

"You can stop this," he said calmly, "you know the spells. You can make it stop." But Sarah just shook her head, tearfully,

"I do not know the spells. I am not like you, Merlin. I didn't choose magic. I- I was born like this." Merlin gaped at her for a moment, a strange feeling rising inside him which he couldn't name. Like joy, but more like compassion. Sarah looked ashamed. Before he could say another word, however, before he could tell her that she was _not _alone, that he was the same, and she didn't have to be scared anymore, there was the sound of heavy footfalls behind them, and grunts of pain.

Merlin then did something he would seriously regret: his eyes flashed gold and the plants retreated back into the earth. He turned, smiling: maybe he was expecting some kind of thanks? Merlin would laugh about that later.

The men looked at him, puzzled. These were just two kids... what did Morgause want with them? But they decided not to think on it. Instead they advanced, enjoying the way the boy's expression turned from expecting to fearful. The way he sidestepped so that he was blocking the girl from view.

Merlin knew he was in danger. He wasn't stupid and, unfortunately, he'd had far too much experience. He raised his hand and spat a few words but, before the magic which would knock every one of the men out, could take effect, they had clapped his wrists in irons, and the spell died in his throat. As he looked down at the shackles, a man ducked down and chained his ankles. Someone was doing the same to Sarah.

No matter, thought Merlin, and he raised his hand once more, directing it at the nearest man:

"_Syrthio i'r llawr eich pen ar y graig!"_ he roared, but nothing happened. He suddenly felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest and _inside _him, as if it was pushing his magic, down and down, till it was squashed flat. He gasped; it was more uncomfortable than he would have believed and, before he could do more than clutch at his stumach, he was being lifted by one of the men, as was Sarah.

* * *

><p>Godfrey walked behind Gwaine, talking.<p>

"I killed a man, once," he was saying. Gwaine didn't react except to grunt and say,

"So have I." Godfrey, looked at the young man's back and then up at the darkening sky.

"He insulted my daughter. Much as I did, earlier. Damadged goods, he said. I didn't know what to think: she was out of the room, upstairs. Probably sleeping. And I walked to this guy, this prick, and asked him what the hell he meant. He laughed and asked how I couldn't know my daughter was a whore. Said that to my face." Gwaine remained silent, his insides twisting uncomfortbly, and in anger on Godfrey's behalf.

Godfrey kept on talking, "and I picked him up and slammed him against the table. He coughed blood and I kept on slamming him down, again and again. Even once he was dead. We had to run then, Sarah and me. I was on wanted posters everwhere. Moved closer to Camelot, where they're all more interested in sorcery than a wanted man from out of town.

"I set up the tavern. Kept a closer eye on Sarah. That bastard's words wouldn't get out of my head. I started using them. All the time. Demanded that she tell me where she went all those nights: she cried, every time I asked. She told me that where she went people were _helping _her. Well, that made me mad. Helping her? Helping her with what, exactly? Were they paying her well, was that it? She said no.

"And I was a fool! Such a damn, paranoid fool. I believed that of my own daughter, who I had raised and loved. I thought I knew her, and then I realised. Too late. Bringing her to Camelot was the worst thing I could have done."

"Why?" Gwaine asked, glancing back at the man. He just shook his head. Gwaine gritted his teeth, and said, "sorcerer, right? Warlock, witch, magic." Godfrey looked shocked, his mouth hanging open.

"What?"

"If it's true, Godfrey, I know exactly where your daughter is."

* * *

><p>Arthur stormed furiously into Gaius' chambers.<p>

"WHERE'S MERLIN?" he thundered. Gaius almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to see the prince.

"Sire, it hasn't even been a day since you last asked," the physician said, alarmed. Arthur frowned. Had it really? It felt like forever. He sighed and left the room as quickly as he's come, leaving Gaius to stare mournfully after him. If only he could tell the boy where Merlin really was, and stop him from worrying.

For the time being, Arthur had been given another manservant. Terribly polite fellow. Annoyingly so. And, unfortunately, the kid was taking the brunt of Arthur's annoyance, and dealing with it a lot less effectively than Merlin would have done. At one point, when Arthur forgot that it _wasn't _Merlin serving him, he'd thrown a goblet at the boy, and it had very nearly reduced him to tears!

"For crying outloud!" he'd roared, when he had heard the quickly stifled sniffle. The boy looked up, alarmed and scared, and Arthur tried to calm himself. He got up to leave his chambers, and the servant hurried after him.

"No," Arthur said, harshly, "stay here and clean up or something." He said, before stomping off, allowing his rage to consume him completely.

"DAMN YOU MERLIN. DAMN YOU!" his yell of anger and frustration could be heard throughout the kingdom.

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><p><em>And that's chapter seven for you. Lol at Arthur's life: thinking it had been days since he'd last asked after Merlin, when really it's only been hours XD I like how CeeRat noticed how I've kind of split this story up... giving you three in one :) I'm thinking, as I go on, the stories are going to kind of switch places, as in while Merlin's part is most important at the moment, later on it will change to Arthur's with Gwaine and Godfrey hovering around there in the middle... oh, and I couldn't remember whether Merlin was meant to be the ONLY warlock who was born with magic but, hey, for the purpose of this fic, Sarah was also born with her gifts :) See you with chapter eight, hopefully on Friday. Please review :D<em>

_I just remembered! The spell in this fic is Welsh for "_Fall the ground, your head upon a rock", so that's what Merlin was hoping to happen. I thought it sounded kind of cool when you said it in Welsh... __


	8. Chapter 8

_Well, here's chapter 8 :D Please keep leaving your stunningly lovely reviews :)_

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><p> <strong>Chapter 8<strong>

The men threw Merlin into a cage, hidden in a hollow around the back of the tent. His body slammed against the bars, and he groaned as his head knocked against the metal. In another cage, beside his, Sarah was given the same treatment. She just managed to twist around to stop her head colliding with the bars, but then she too slumped to the cage floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, and her eyes narrowed. Was it just Merlin, or did it seem like she was used to this kind of treatment?

Well, Merlin was used to spending the night in a cell, being hit and yelled at, flying into walls and being tied up, at the mercy of an army of giant scorpions. Merlin shuddered at that particular memory.

But he was not used to cages. He had hoped and prayed that he would _never _be caged. He was not some wild animal, to be chained up and sold, and being in the cramped space made him feel like he wanted to be sick. Instead, however, he crawled over so he could reach through the bars and into Sarah's cage. He struggled, as it was near impossible to force the shackles between the bars, and they cut painfully into his wrists.

"You all right?" he asked, gently, looking for the fear he was feeling mirrored in her eyes. But it wasn't there. So, he was right: she had been in this kind of situation before.

"I'm fine," she said, sadly, looking carefully in Merlin's face, "but what's going on Merlin?" Merlin sighed and was about to tell her, explain about Morgause and then maybe go on to ask about her magic, but then one of the men stepped forwards and placed one hand around a bar on each if their cages. He rattled them, violently, and the noise rang painfully through Merlin's sore head.

Merlin pulled away from Sarah, gasping as the shackles drew blood at the movement. The ruby red droplets inched their way down his forearm. He didn't spare them another moment's thought, however, and instead tried to summon some sort of spell, just _anything_, which might help them out, but the magic didn't bubble to the surface as it usually did. In fact, it did the opposite, pressing down to somewhere around his navel. He groaned, thinking again that he might throw up.

"You won't be able to do nothing while you've got them on." The man seized Merlin's shackles and used them to drag Merlin's hands up, and ram them against the cage. More blood slid from his wrists. The man cackled.

"That's enough, Brom," Morgause had entered the cave, her face, still heavily made up with make up after her recent appearance in the circus, almost glowing in the darkness. Merlin's insides crawled at the sight of her and, even when Brom dropped his shackles, he pressed himself against the bars to growl at her, his throat making noises he didn't remember permitting them to. Morgause laughed, softly.

"Well, Merlin: it looks like you belong in a cage," she gazed at him, her expression almost wary. Then it changed to one of cruel delight as she hissed, "just like any other dirty animal."

Merlin heard Sarah's shout of anger at the insult, but it was dimmed by the sudden roaring in his ears. He stood up, as well as he could, having to bend his neck because of the low ceiling, and found himself towering above Morgause. She was just an insect, nothing compared to his power. And who cared if she found out about his magic? She probably all ready knew. He just wanted to make her crawl back under the rock she'd come out of. But then, even as he hissed the words of the spell _"__cropian yn ôl i ble rydych yn dod o" _he was doubling over and wretching onto the cage floor, his eyes watering from the violence of his sudden, hacking coughs.

Morgause, seeing that Merlin was no longer a threat, approached him, cooing softly.

"There, there," she said, and Merlin cringed away as she reached through the bars to place a patronising hand on his shoulder, "you know you really mustn't try that again, Merlin. You'll only make it worse," Merlin looked up at her through bloodshot eyes to see her twisted smile, "you might even die," she whispered, "and I really would hate that, Merlin."

"Why?" Merlin spat at her, "you've never cared before!"

"Ah, but before you were just an idiot serving boy, always getting in the way of my sister. Now... well, now you are Emrys, and that means something else entirely," Merlin heard Sarah's intake of breath at the name 'Emrys'. He gritted his teeth, glaring at Morgause.

"So, what do you want?" he asked, "what's this circus for, Morgause. How are you planning to kill Uther this time?" Morgause frowned at him.

"I would love to tell you, Merlin. It's pretty simple really, but I'm not a fool," here Merlin gave a derisive snort, and Morgause's hand shot threw the bars and slapped him round the face. Merlin's slight smirk turned into a grimace, and his now inflamed face was filled with an expression of uncharacteristic hatred. Morgause continued to gaze at him, contemplating. Then she turned and called,

"Aaron, Brom. Take the girl somewhere else. Keep her locked up but out of sight. The boy's staying with me." Merlin couldn't tear his eyes away from Morgause's, even as Sarah yelled, finally starting to feel the fear that had been swarming inside of him the moment the shackles had been placed on his wrists and ankles.

"Now," Morgause leered up at him, "we have less than three days, Merlin. Let's not waste time."

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><p>Morgana recieved the message from Morgause with bated breath. The man relayed it to him, as he held him by his throat against a wall. When he had finished talking, she slid the dagger from her sleeve and plunged it into his heart. His eyes immediately dimmed, and she removed the knife, watching with a mixture of pleasure and disgust, as he slid to the floor. Morgause had told her to kill all the messangers from now until she arrived in Camelot: it would not do to have one of them repeat the message to anyone apart from Morgana. It was also for this reason that the messages were short, and void of any detail. This particular man's last words had been:<p>

"We march on Camelot in three days. I have Emrys, but he has yet to submit to the cause. Be ready for us, sister."

Morgana smirked as she bent down and heaved up the dead man's body. She dragged him up a flight of stairs and pushed him over the castle wall, outside. She heard the slam of flesh on stone and the crack of bones breaking as he hit the floor. She smiled at the satisfying sound, and thought about the message. So, Morgause had the legendary Emrys. Morgana wasn't sure whether this was good news or not: if Emrys didn't agree with the plan, how could even Morgause hope to subdue him?

But she had her orders: _be ready for us, sister_. Yes, she would be ready. She would keep the King from knowing about the Circus of Sorcery for as long as possible: keep him from knowing about the army, designed specifically to kill him and his son. And it would be a lot easier now that the interferring Merlin had disappeared, although where he had got to still vaguely troubled the back of her mind.

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><p>Two days had gone by. Gwaine and Godfrey trudged on, through the forest, their breaths coming in short gasps. The talking had stopped hours ago: unusual for them both, but they had nothing left to say. The Circus of Sorcery was the only thing they could think of. Gwaine wasn't sure at which point during the last forty-eight hours his obsession had started. He wasn't sure when the creeping feeling of unease had stolen over him. All he knew was that he couldn't be sure Merlin was safe until he saw him, smiling and laughing, maybe even accompanied by Godfrey's daughter. He hadn't been worried to start with: he had complete faith in Merlin's ability to take care of himself, unlike Arthur who seemed to think Merlin was beyond useless. Sure, Merlin got into scrapes, often, like the one back at the little village, but Gods! The boy was a warlock!<p>

But Godfrey's constant fretting had rubbed off on him: what if this wasn't a real circus? What if it was a way to trap people with magic? What if, at this moment, all those with magic were being rounded up, to be given back to Uther? They were questions that Gwaine felt a fool for not asking himself, before letting Merlin go. If anything happened to his friend, he didn't know what he would do. Probably go kill the people that did it and then drink his grief away.

It was on the evening of the second day, when the sky had darkened to the deepest blue, and the stars' light just managed to shine through the trees, that they heard the marching. Gwaine darted into the shadows, beckoning Godfrey to follow. They crouched among the bushes, watching as hundreds of people marched through the dark woods. They wore no armour. In fact, most of the men had bare chests, and the women wore dresses and cloaks. There were children, too, clutching their mother's skirts or their father's hands. Some of the children were alone, and wandered amongst the people, their eyes orbs of fear and confusion.

And yet, even with the woman, children, lack of weaponry and protection, this was unmistakably and army. They marched with a purpose. And Gwaine knew that this was it: this was the circus, because only people who possessed magic could walk into battle with such confidence. Leading the people was a woman, her voice carrying easily over to them, as she yelled,

"Kill Uther and gain the freedom we have been denied since the Great Purge! Kill Uther and we will reign over all." Gwaine crept forwards, with Godfrey following, trying to see who was talking.

When he saw her, his stomach did a summersault: Morgause. He had never seen her before, but she matched Merlin's descriptions in his letters perfectly.

"Gwaine," Godfrey hissed, "Gwaine, will my daughter be here?"

"Yes," Gwaine replied through gritted teeth, "but we must get to Camelot to warn them."

"No," Godfrey said, "I must find Sarah." And he began to move away, with every intention of joining the army.

"Don't be a fool, Godfrey!" Gwaine wrenched him back, "it's not safe. We _must _go to Camelot!"

"Why?" Godfrey only just managed to keep his voice under control, "Uther would see my daughter killed in a second," he snapped his fingers to emphasize the point, "maybe she's right to be fighting."

"I know how it looks, but Merlin, my friend Merlin, it's his... his _destiny,_" the word seemed laughable even as Gwaine said it, "to save Camelot. To bring back peace. But Prince Arthur must survive: nothing can jeopardise that. I have to warn Uther."

"Destiny?" Godfrey sounded incredulous, "you think that some serving boy and have such a great future? It's ridiculous, Gwaine. If your friend is too cowardly to fight, get him out now and-" Godfrey didn't get to finish his sentence, because Gwaine was wrestling him to the ground, his knife at his throat.

"Don't you _ever _call Merlin a coward again, because he's got more courage than anyone I know, and he's been through things you would be too scared to think about," Gwaine spat into the man's face, his blood pounding, furiously, in his ears, "and I know, if that woman is involved," Gwaine jerked his head back, in the direction of Morgause, "Merlin is in danger. But, she's powerful, and I won't be able to save him alone. I need Arthur. Gods, I'll probably need all the knights of Camelot, which is why I'm going. _Now_. With or without you."

Godfrey stared up at Gwaine, from the floor, the blade still pressing lightly against his skin. He thought about Camelot, and all the innocent people there: people who would all die if this army got there. Then he thought about Sarah, and all the innocent people fled from his mind. Sarah was the only thing that mattered. He had come for her, and he wouldn't leave without her, no matter what. So, he shook his head at Gwaine.

"I'm finding her. I can't let her fight. I need to persuade her to get out of this." Gwaine nodded, understanding. Then he said,

"If she has anything to do with Merlin, I doubt that her intention is to fight anyway. Look for Merlin. Tell him help is on its way. Keep a low profile, and don't let anyone see you or, at least, pretend you've been here the whole time. Don't go _anyway _near that blonde woman." And Gwaine stood, "If I move quickly, I might get to Camelot a few hours before them. Bearing in mind I'm an outcast, it might be a little tricky..."

"An outcast?" Godfrey shook his head, half in disbelief and half in... was that admiration? Gwaine grinned and clapped Godfrey on the shoulder,

"Good luck," he said.

"You too." Godfrey replied. And they went their separate ways.

* * *

><p>It was one o'clock when Gwaine slipped past the guards and into the castle. He guessed Morgause would breach Camelot walls within the next hour. It was five minutes past, when he burst into Arthur's chambers and slapped him, hard, around the head.<p>

"Rise and shine princess. The circus is in town."

* * *

><p><em>So, bit of a cliffy there :) Sorry about that. Also, sorry if the timing confused you... basically, in the next chapter I'm doing the swapping thing, where it's more about Arthur than Merlin, and then both you and Arthur'll find out what happened to Merlin (which is probably what most of you want to know) during those three days :D Well, I guess I'll be seeing you sunday! <em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Ok everyone, chapter 9 is here :D I guess I'll tell you that from now onwards in this story I am promising bromance, something of an epic battle, whump, bit o' tragedy, Aaron (the guy in my summery) and maybe some romance. Not all in this chapter, but that's just what I'm planning for the future. Enjoy and please please keep reviewing!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Arthur jerked awake, almost banging his head against the man's, which was looming over him. Gwaine jumped back to avoid the collision.

"Gwaine? What the _hell _are you doing here?" Arthur passed a hand over his face and climbed out of bed, staring in absolute shock at the outcast. Gwaine grinned and then pulled a flask from his pocket, his hand very slightly trembling as the adrenaline that had rushed through him while breaking into the castle wore off. He took a swig and then pressed it into Arthur's hand.

"You might want some of that," he said. Arthur looked down and the leather container and shook his head, refusing to raise it to his lips

"Gwaine, _what_ is going on and _how on earth _did you get into my chambers?"

"To answer your second question: easily. You're security is laughably lax. And to answer your first... well. I'm just going to say it: you have less than an hour to get your royal arse into gear and stop an army of sorcerers killing you, your father and half the people." Gwaine watched as Arthur's expression went from confusion to horror and then into a mask of anger. So, it was happening. They had been expecting it but, still. An _army_.

"How do you know this?" Arthur asked, springing into action, darting behind his screen to change into his armour.

"I saw them," Gwaine told him, "they're being led by the witch: Morgause." Behind the screen, Arthur froze. He remembered when Morgause had summoned that traitorous image of his mother.

"Are there many of them?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"Yes. A couple of hundred at the least. But there are women and children and-"

"_What?" _Arthur spat, starting to dress once more, his fingers moving almost feverishly to do up buckles and laces. Women and children?

"I know. And the children are young Arthur; I saw one boy, about ten years old. Expected to fight!" Gwaine believed in equality, but the idea of a child fighting in a battle was absurd, even to him. Arthur felt sick: if they retaliated it would mean killing such children. They would have to think about this carefully. But how could they? There was so little time.

"I must prepare the knights," Arthur said, reappearing before Gwaine in his armour, and his eyes bright.

"Arthur, there's something else," Arthur noted the cautious tone in which Gwaine said the words.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, his eyes narrowed.

"I believe that Merlin is with them. With the sorcerers." Gwaine told him, looking closely into Arthur's face to read his reaction. Arthur's mouth went dry.

"That's ridiculous, Gwaine," he finally managed to say, "what are saying? Merlin's a sorcerer and he's coming to kill me?" as Arthur said it, his confidence grew. Of course Merlin wasn't magic, and he wouldn't even _think _of killing him. The idiot was far too loyal.

"No, I'm not saying that," Gwaine said, and Arthur visibly relaxed, "but they're holding him. I am sure of it." Arthur stared.

"You saw him?"

"Not exactly. But I _know, _Arthur." And Arthur believed him. And there was no time to lose. No time for pointless questions: Merlin was in danger.

"We must get him out! Merlin can't be in the middle of a battle, he'll be killed!"

"You shouldn't have such little faith in him, you know." Gwaine said. Arthur frowned,

"_Gwaine_, I think that I have every reason to have 'little faith' in Merlin. The idiot's gone and got himself kidnapped!"

"I never said that he got kidnapped." Gwaine pointed out.

"Well, didn't he? Surely the only thing they could want with _Mer_lin would be to for him to give them information on me."

"Yeah, _surely_," Gwaine said, restraining from shaking his head at Arthur's naivety "but, Arthur, get the knights ready first. Make sure the castle is protected, and then we'll get Merlin. And I need to find some armour."

"What for?" Arthur asked, distracted.

"So I don't die protecting you're bloody kingdom, that's why!"

"You can't fight," Arthur said, instantly, "you'll be caught."

"Arthur, I doubt anyone's going to notice me once the chaos starts. Now hurry up, dammit!"

* * *

><p>Arthur didn't want to prepare the knights. He wanted to find Merlin and lecture him till world's end on how he should be more careful and not allow himself to be whisked away by the first evil sorceress he stumbled upon. He wanted to yell and throw things and know that Merlin was safe. But, no matter how much Arthur wanted to lay the blame on his servant, he felt it was his fault. Why hadn't he kept a closer eye on things? Merlin was <em>his <em>servant and so _his _responsibility.

No matter: Camelot had to be ready for the attack. The bells were sounded and their chimes ordered the knights to assemble in the courtyard, where Arthur stood and told them that they must fight. Fight for Camelot, for their families and for themselves. Where Arthur told them that women and children would also be fighting against them. That they must show no mercy. They had no choice.

"Sire," Leon spoke, "how can we kill an innocent child?" Arthur's eyes shut briefly.

"They are all sorcerers, Leon. Do what you have to. If you can avoid killing them, do. But if they show any sign of harming you or anyone else, then you _must_ retaliate. Now, I must go speak to my father. I am leaving you in charge, Leon." Leon nodded, and took Arthur's place, while Arthur hurried back inside.

* * *

><p>"Father," he entered Uther's chambers, to find the King all ready standing, his manservant preparing him for battle, fitting his armour.<p>

"I saw you from the window. I had a feeling there was little time," Uther explained, unsheathing his sword and watching it glint in the moonlight.

"Less than an hour." Arthur informed him, and Uther's stance stiffened.

"Is Morgana safe?" he asked. Arthur frowned,

"I haven't checked. I'm sure she's fine."

"Well check now! And make sure all the guards are fully armed. Get any able men from the lower town as well. We need numbers. Have you found your servant? Gods, even give him a sword!"

"He... he has not yet returned." Arthur said, quietly. Uther looked at him.

"I was right? He is part of the army."

"No," Arthur said, quickly, "he was kidnapped by them and-"

"Kidnapped?" Uther's tone turned suddenly very dangerous.

"Yes," Arthur replied, nervously.

"And how much information do you think he's given this enemy?" Uther asked.

"None! I am sure of it, father."

"You better be, Arthur. If that boy has betrayed anything about us, he will hang."

"Father, really, I-"

"Go find Morgana. Make sure she is protected. Then we will fight."

* * *

><p>Morgana watched through her window, as Camelot's army prepared itself. All ready you could see the glow in the distance, of hundreds of torches: Morgana knew that was the Circus. That was what her sister had been breeding: warriors to rival the knights of Camelot with ease. Warriors who would aid her ascent to the throne. She smirked.<p>

"Morgana," Arthur burst into her chambers, and she replaced the smile with a look of fear.

"Oh, Arthur," she cried, "what's going on?"

"I was just making sure you were safe," he said, trying to sound soothing, but his voice was ragged after the words from his father, "Camelot will soon be under attack."

"I can see that," Morgana replied, turning to look out of the window once more.

"Morgana, you must get below the castle. That's where we're gathering everyone unable to fight-" he stopped talking at the steely glare Morgana was giving him.

"I heard," she said, coldly, "that there are women fighting, in the other army." Arthur frowned, clearly showing his disapproval of the notion.

"Yes. There are." He said. Morgana drew herself up,

"Well then, I want to fight. I want to _help_."

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur said firmly, "now go."

Morgana stared at him, not moving: gone were the days when Arthur had any power over her. Gone were the days when she would respect his wishes. With one last scathing look, she swept past him. But she was not going to hide away, underground. She was going to join her sister, and fight for her kind and all that was right.

* * *

><p>Arthur watched Morgana go with a sense of foreboding: the last thing he needed was an unruly sister, determined to get herself killed. <em>Women<em>, he thought to himself, with a shake of his head. Then he left, breaking into a run to get back outside, with his men.

Up on the battlements, there were around thirty archers, the strings of their bows tautened as the arrows were aimed at the oncoming rebels, who were now so close that the marching of their boots could be heard way up high. Arthur stared down at them, surprised to find his eyes moving to find some sign of his servant. Where was Merlin? His eyes roved among the enemy, resting momentarily on the face of Morgause, then a pretty young girl whose hand was being held by a large man's, then two old wizards, a little boy, a teenaged girl... and no Merlin.

"Sire," one of the archers spoke, "Sire, should we fire?" He asked, his voice tense. Arthur paused for one more second, and then raised his hand. It stayed there, a quivering glove hanging in the air, and then it fell, as Arthur let out a roar of

"FIRE!" And the arrows flew through the air. It was only once they were soaring down, that Arthur spotted the cage. He leant forward, the sound of arrows whistling through the sky filling his ears, and then the breath hitched in his throat.

"Merlin." He whispered.

* * *

><p>Gwaine charged the moment he heard Arthur's yell, far above him. Leon did too, and they were followed by the many knights, their swords swinging wildly, singing the metallic songs of battle. Gwaine's teeth were bared, as he plunged his sword into the first man's gut. The man grinned at him, his teeth bloodstained, and then took a step backwards. The sword, still being held by Gwaine, was removed from his body, and the gaping wound healed in an instant. Gwaine's jaw dropped. Now, here was an interesting opponent.<p>

* * *

><p>Arthur ran from the battlements, passing his father as he did so.<p>

"Arthur," Uther bellowed after him, "where are you going?" but Arthur didn't reply. He drew his sword as he reached the courtyard, battling his way through the people, passing Gwaine as he did so. He swung his sword, and the head of the man Gwaine was fighting flew from his shoulders. Gwaine stared at the headless body for a moment, and then laughed.

"Recover from that!" He cried, before turning to attack someone else. Arthur didn't stop long enough to hear him say it.

After what was only minutes but felt like hours, Arthur was beside the cage, and there was Merlin. Well it could have been anyone if it wasn't for those ears, sticking out from underneath his hair, flattened from sweat and... was that blood?

Yes. It could have been anyone, because the man in the cage had obviously been beaten, so much so that he was almost unrecognisable. But Arthur knew. And Arthur felt as though the world ought to end, right there, because a world where his servant looked like that shouldn't, _couldn't _exist.

"Merlin," he gasped, forcing his arms through the bars, trying to reach his friend's.

Merlin's eyelids, which were more like dark purple scabs, fluttered, painfully.

"Arthur?" He raised his head, a fraction of an inch, and the ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. Then he coughed, and a spot of blood flew from his lips and landed on Arthur's cheek. Arthur froze, anger such as he had never felt surging up inside him.

Suddenly, this battle had gotten a lot more personal.

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><p><em>So, Merlin obviously has a not very pleasant story to tell :s You liked this chapter? I hope so. If not, well thanks for reading anyway :) Once again, please take some time to review; I'll love you muchly and forever if you do :D See ya friday with chapter 10 :)<em>


	10. Chapter 10

_Helooo everyone! Sorry I couldn't update on Friday... I was in Belgium :) Your reviews were truly lovely for the last chapter :D I'm sorry I couldn't reply to some of them because they were insigned or you weren't logged in or whatever, but they were all very inspiring :D Also, this fic has been added to 2 of those community thingies which is cool! They are called **The Charming Rogue: Gwaine**, and **What is your name!** If you wanna check them out :)_

_I was quite apprehensive about writing this chapter... it's a very angsty one, so don't say I didn't warn you. Please review!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Arthur was torn: one half of him was battling its hardest, his sword reigning blows down upon the enemy. The other half was intent only upon protecting Merlin. Arthur didn't move more than a foot away from the cage as he fought, and he danced around it, keeping people at bay. Inside the cage, Merlin tried to communicate with his friend, to tell him to leave and fight properly.

Stop trying to look after me, he thought, desperately, it's not as if anything worse is going to happen to me. Even dying wouldn't be worse than _this_.

"Merlin," a voice called, and Merlin's neck twisted, a little too quickly, so that he howled in pain, shocked at the sound coming from his throat. He quickly subdued the noise, reducing it to a hiccupping sob, as every part of his body burned from the movement. It was Sarah.

"I'm sorry," she cried, desperately reaching through the bars. Merlin tried to lean forwards to reach her, but every movement made him scream so that his throat tore and his arms and legs were chained to the floor of the cage. Tears ran down Sarah's face, as she stretched her fingers, desperately, till they could just touch his ankles. For a moment, she stood there, looking at the man who she had become so close to over the last few days, and who had sacrificed everything. Who had gone through such pain, and for what? For the man he worked for. A man who didn't even know who or what Merlin was, or what Merlin had done for him.

Didn't know that Merlin was the bravest man in the world.

Suddenly, she was being hurled away from the cage and was on the floor, the point of a sword at her throat.

Arthur panted, furiously, glaring down at the girl. He would kill her, for going anywhere near Merlin: anyone from here on out who touched Merlin was an enemy.

* * *

><p>Merlin watched, his tearstained face paling, if that was even possible. He remembered, just minutes ago he had managed to smile at Arthur. How had he done that? He tried, his lips trembling, and then blood seeped from the corners of his lips, and despair clamped down around him. Arthur was going to kill Sarah. She was going to die.<p>

"Get away from my daughter!" suddenly, a man was charging forwards, knocking Arthur off his feet. Sarah scrambled away, standing up.

"I'm trying to help," she yelled, running forwards, "please, father, don't do anything!" she grabbed hold of Godfrey's shirt and pulled him backwards. Arthur's sword had slipped from his fingers, and he was swinging wild punches at the man's face. After a few moments of fruitless struggling from all three of them, Godfrey and Arthur moved apart, panting and gasping, their faces bloody.

"Please, listen to me," Sarah moved over to Arthur, and took hold of his arms. Arthur's eyes widened at the contact, "I know Merlin. Please, you have to get him out, but the cage is locked. Locked with magic." Arthur looked over her head at the cage, trying not to focus too much on Merlin. Trying to be practical.

It was the first time he noticed that the cage was not being pulled, and did not even have wheels: it was floating, a few feet off the ground, swaying gently.

"Can you unlock it?" Arthur asked the girl.

"With a key. A man called Aaron wore it round his neck."

"Where is he?" Arthur snarled, "I'll get it."

"No need," Sarah said quickly, "I... I killed Aaron." She said, her voice cracking a little, but her gaze was steely, and her eyes held no regret. Then she lifted a string over her head, and the key swung there, dull and rusting. Arthur stared at it for a moment.

"Thank you," he said, reaching forwards to take it from her, but she jumped backwards, away from him.

Arthur's expression suddenly turned angry.

"Give it to me," he thundered, crouching down to pick up his sword and then straightening up again. The battle still raged around them, the noise deafening.

"There is an incantation. I know it. You must promise not to harm me for having magic, and I will set Merlin free." Sarah said it, even though she knew that, if Arthur did not agree, she would set Merlin free anyway. Thankfully, Arthur nodded.

"Fine," he said, "do it."

What came next happened so fast that Arthur had trouble keeping track:

Sarah inserted the key into the lock, and whispered some words, her eyes glowing. The cage opened and she clambered inside, a smile breaking out on her face. Arthur advanced, terrified that he'd made a wrong decision, that Sarah was bad, but then she pressed her forehead against Merlin's bloody one, and kissed him.

Merlin's eyes closed, as he kissed her back, and Arthur stared, his mouth hanging open, as did Godfrey. But neither advanced: neither yelled out that they were in the middle of a bloody _war_, because what they witnessed seemed so... private. They felt like they were intruding on something raw and pure. So they didn't say anything. They couldn't speak or shout warnings as an enemy soldier sprang from nowhere, and his eyes turned gold and the spell he screamed shot through the bars of the cage.

It was only after Sarah's body was lifted into the air, and her screams pierced the night that Arthur and Godfrey could move. Only after she fell into Merlin's lap, her weight slamming against his injured legs, and her eyes turned to stare into his. Only after Merlin's howls of fear, grief and anger shot through Arthur's body like they were knives.

* * *

><p>Godfrey ran forwards, a roar of rage bursting from him as he lifted his sword and brought it down upon the enemy, so that in moments he was drenched in blood and crying. Then he clambered into the cage, reaching forwards and trying to pull his daughter's body from Merlin. Merlin couldn't fight to hold onto her: his hands were still attached to the floor, but he yelled and leaned forwards, not caring that the movement made him feel like dying.<p>

"Sarah," Godfrey lifted her head onto his knees, his tears splashing against her face. She was still, just, breathing.

"Love you," she gasped, to her father, little panting breaths, "I would never hurt you... didn't want to. I'm different... to mother. I- I'm different."

"I know, I know," Godfrey stroked her hair, "shush, now, don't talk darling, you'll be ok. I promise." Sarah twisted a little so that she could see Merlin, who was staring at her, his expression anguished.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her not to go, not to leave him like Freya left him. Like everyone except Arthur left him. But he couldn't talk, he could only scream and yell, but he couldn't form words. So he just looked at her, and hoped his eyes conveyed that he loved her.

She tried to do exactly the same. Her amber eyes filled with emotion, before becoming completely devoid of it. Before she lay there.

Dead in her father's arms.

And all this happened in around five minutes.

* * *

><p>Arthur just managed to get into the cage in time to restrain Merlin, who was suddenly struggling and writhing, wildly, injuring himself in his chains.<p>

"Merlin," Arthur cried, "stay still. You're hurting yourself, Merlin." But the servant didn't care. Arthur didn't think that he'd ever seen the man like this. The prince clamped his arms tightly around his friend, pinning his thin arms to his sides, till Merlin gave up, slumping against Arthur his head lolling backwards, his eyes closed. Then Arthur grabbed the key, which Sarah had dropped. It was still glowing, and full of the unlocking spell she had cast.

Arthur inserted the key into Merlin's handcuffs and the chains around his feet, and removed them. It was only then that Arthur saw the damage the chains had caused to Merlin's hands and feet. His wrists were bloody and swollen, as were his ankles.

The moment Merlin was free of the chains, he felt his magic return. It almost burst from him, in this time of need, and it took considerable effort to keep it inside. But its sudden return made him wretch. Had he eaten anything recently, he would have thrown up.

"Oh, Merlin," Arthur was surprised at the tone of his voice, as Merlin shuddered against him and then passed out.

* * *

><p>"Arthur?" Gwaine was running towards them, jumping over bodies and skirting around knights.<p>

"Gwaine, quick," Arthur yelled, relieved that Gwaine was there; alive and able to help.

"What happened?" Gwaine stared in horror at Merlin, and then his jaw set in fury, "who did this? What bastards did this, Arthur? Tell me now so I can go kill them," Gwaine's anger was exactly what Arthur had been expecting, but he didn't have time for it. The fact that he was feeling exactly the same way didn't matter. It would have to wait.

"Gwaine, we need to get Merlin into the castle. And this man. His daughter helped us..." and Gwaine noticed Godfrey for the first time.

He almost smiled at seeing the barman, but then he saw the girl, her long blonde hair in knots around her shoulders. It hurt even more, because he recognised her. He remembered, talking to her at the tavern. And now she was dead.

"I'm sorry," Gwaine said, placing a hand on Godfrey's shoulder. He could feel the tremors running through the man's body.

"Gwaine," Arthur pressed, urgently, "can you get Merlin inside? I have to stay and fight-"

"No, you don't," Gwaine said fiercely, "Merlin needs _you _Arthur. Hate to admit it, but you're the one he'll want when he wakes up."

"But-"

"Arthur, I can't go into the castle anyway. I'll be recognised. I'll get there as soon as I can." Arthur pretended not to know that revenge was the only thing on Gwaine's mind.

"Fine," he said, trying not to be relieved that he wouldn't have to leave Merlin.

"I'll be staying too," Godfrey said, looking up at Gwaine, who nodded. Arthur looked at Godfrey,

"I will not forget what you and your daughter did today," he said, seriously, "when this is over, I will personally see that her body is recovered and a service is held for her." Godfrey nodded. Arthur wished he could say something more. If Merlin had... _liked _Sarah, she deserved the best.

He looked down at Merlin's bruised face, and couldn't begin to imagine how he would feel when he woke. Merlin didn't deserve this! He didn't deserve to be tortured and to then see a friend die right before his eyes.

He clasped Merlin to him, more tightly and securely, and then struggled to his feet, lifting the limp form of his servant up with him. He would get Merlin to safety, and make him well again. Then Merlin would be able to tell him what had happened at the Circus of Sorcery.

* * *

><p><em>So... what do you think? I feel really bad about Sarah, but if this was the actual show she wouldn't have survived. If some of you are like 'What? Merlin LOVED her? After what? THREE DAYS?' well then, yeah, I get you, but I think Merlin falls in love pretty easily. I don't think he loves Sarah like he did Freya, but you'll find out why they grew so close in later chapters, as well as what happened to Merlin and Arthur's reactions to it all.<em>

_I don't think I'll be able to update again till next Sunday, because I'm on another trip :s Please stick around till then! _


	11. Chapter 11

_This chapter is a bit short, but I hope you don't mind :)_

_Warnings: just feel worried for Merlin, Ok. Some blood, a bit graphic when it comes to his injuries, but not too bad :s_

_Please review :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Arthur stumbled into the castle, to the underground rooms where the injured were being tended to by Gaius and Gwen. Arthur's stomach lurched as he observed some of the wounds: they had all been inflicted by magic, and oozed different colours.

He moved as far away from these other patients as possible, not wanting Merlin to have to see all that. He put the boy on one of the tables, and then called for the physician, who hurried over.

"Merlin," he cried, "my boy!" he reached forward, obviously intending to pull his ward into some kind of embrace, but then held back, making himself think logically: Merlin was in no state to be hugged.

He swayed dangerously on the table top, his eyes drooping and his swollen hands in his lap.

"Arthur, what's happened?" he asked, moving around Merlin to look at him from all angles. Arthur stood there, shaking, before rubbing his eyes and then pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I- I don't know. I think he was kidnapped, by Morgause and... and he saw someone die. A girl. I think they were close..." Arthur cringed, knowing that this was an understatement, as he remembered Merlin kissing her. Remembered his servant's face when the girl fell into his lap.

Gaius frowned: Gwaine had practically told him that Merlin had gone to the circus by choice and, as for the girl...

"He saw her die a long time ago." Gaius said, heavily, reaching forwards to peer into Merlin's eyes. The boy stirred, trying to lift his eyelids and look back at his guardian. Both Gaius and Arthur felt their hearts break as a single tear worked its way through the grime on Merlin's cheek.

"What?" Arthur asked, "no, he saw her die just a few minutes ago..."

"Oh..."

"Gaius, what-?" Arthur stared at the old man.

"It might be best not to discuss it now, Arthur," Gaius said quickly, trying to move past the fact that Merlin had obviously lost yet another close friend. Arthur clenched his jaw. He _hated _being left in the dark, but he knew Gaius was right. There were more pressing things at hand, such as what the hell had happened to Merlin since they had last seen him.

"Merlin," Arthur said, gently, placing a hand on his servant's shoulder. Merlin jerked instinctively away from his touch, his mouth lolling open in fear, his eyelids finally flying wide open, "I'm not going to hurt you," Arthur said, quickly. Merlin relaxed a little, but his whole body shook with the obvious effort it was costing him to stay sitting up.

"Can't we lie him down, Gaius?" Arthur asked, his eyes not leaving Merlin's face.

"He is going into shock, Sire. If you need to speak to him, then he must stay sitting. He will pass out instantly if he lies down. Although I don't know that he's fit to answer any questions at this point."

"I must know what happened to him, Gaius," Arthur whispered. Gaius hesitated: he too was desperate to know, and he didn't know when the next opportunity to get answers from Merlin would present itself. So he gave Arthur a nod.

"Merlin," Arthur said, again, "Merlin can you tell me anything that has happened to you? Where have you been?"

Merlin heard the questions as though they were spoken to him underwater. They gurgled through his mind, and made no sense whatsoever. He blinked slowly, his face wet with sweat and tears, although he couldn't remember when he had started crying, or why. Arthur's face swam in and out of focus, his expression imploring.

Imploring.

What did that mean?

Arthur wanted something. What did he want? Merlin tried to ask, tried to find that voice which he was sure he had been using to scream mere minutes ago. But it wouldn't come. Instead he was gasping as pain shot through his mouth, and he felt as if his tongue was on fire. Blood dribbled over his lips.

"Gaius," Arthur cried, looking from his servant to the physician and back again, "what's happening to him?"

"I think that he is trying to speak, sire," Gaius said. He leaned forward and said,

"Merlin, I need to look inside your mouth. This may hurt, Merlin. Merlin, look at me." Gaius moved so that he was directly in Merlin's line of sight, "Merlin, do you understand me?" Merlin nodded, very slowly.

"Why do you need to look in his mouth?" Arthur was asking, his voice laced with panic. Gaius didn't answer, he just gingerly pulled Merlin's lips a little further apart. And suddenly Merlin was whimpering in terror, pulling himself away from the old man's touch. Gaius had to fight, desperately, in order to hold back tears.

"Arthur, could you hold him still for me? I'm so sorry Merlin, I have to look."

Arthur was beginning to feel really quite afraid now. He would never admit it, but he couldn't deny it to himself: Gaius' worried tone and Merlin's twitching struck a chord inside him that he hadn't even known existed, and now terror was beginning to worm its way into his heart, as he wrapped his arms around Merlin's torso, trying to be firm and gentle at the same time.

Merlin was really sobbing now, cringing against him, trying to get away from Gaius, his neck tilted upwards as he tried to get his mouth as far from Gaius' hands as possible, and so Arthur could see every detail of the boy's face: the bruises surrounding his eyes, hugging his cheekbones and travelling up over his forehead. The cuts and gashes across his chin and cheeks. The patches on his head where the hair had apparently been ripped from his scalp. It made Arthur want to be sick. It made him want to kill something. Kill Morgause.

"Arthur, keep his head still," Gaius instructed, firmly, so Arthur changed position and clamped his hands around Merlin's head, forcing his neck forwards once more. The servant let out a wail.

Gaius took a deep breath and once more prised Merlin's jaw apart, looking closely at the insides of the boy's cheeks, and his tongue. It was as Gaius had feared, and Arthur was shocked to see some of the anger he was feeling flit across the physician's face.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, and then leant around Merlin so he could see.

It was a sea of red: saliva mixed with blood, staining Merlin's teeth crimson. And his cheeks... it looked as though someone had forced a knife between Merlin's lips and simply twisted it, round and round. Arthur could do nothing but stare, and then pull Gaius' hand back, letting Merlin shut his mouth. Then, he carefully laid Merlin back on the table. His hands were strangely steady.

"I'm going to find Morgause," he said, calmly, "and I am going to tear her apart." And Arthur turned, fully intending to leave and carry out what he had stated, but suddenly a hand grabbed onto his fingers.

* * *

><p>Merlin wanted to tell Arthur to stay. Tell him what Morgause was planning. But he couldn't: the only time sound came from his mouth was when he was screaming or crying and he didn't have the energy to do either of those. He wondered, vaguely, whether he would ever be able to speak again.<p>

Arthur just stared at him, his face a confusing mix of conflicting emotions.

Anger.

Hatred.

Fear.

Exhaustion.

Love.

Affection.

Desperation.

Hope.

And then Merlin gave up. His eyes fell shut and his body seemed to lock down. Only his mind carried on whirring, reliving just what he had been through since he and Sarah had been split up, locked in separate cages.

He remembered how it had started...

"_Now," Morgause leered up at him, "we have less than three days, Merlin. Let's not waste time."_

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><p><em>So, the rest of Merlin's story will start in the next chapter :) He's been through quite an ordeal, as I think you can tell :s I do feel a bit bad about it actually...<em>

_Your reviews really inspire me so please keep them coming :D_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hellooooo! Chapter 12 is here!  
>Sorry, is anyone else CRAZY scaredexcited for the great Harry extravaganza? My potterhead has expanded with anticipation. I'm going to cry SO much :'(._

_By the way, I think I'm only going to be able to update this once a week from now on, hopefully on Fridays... sorry, but I have a feeling I'm going to be quite busy over the summer holidays :)_

_CeeRat: All points are good points ;)_

_Ringo'simaginarycat: Thank you! I'm glad you think my atrocities are well written :D_

_Gem: I don't know how it's still interesting when you already know how it ends... maybe because people want to know what Merlin's been through, or what Morgause's full plan is, or how exactly Merlin fell in love, or why Merlin's been so hurt... I dunno... you either find it interesting or you don't :)_

_Daisy: I am truly honoured that this is your favourite fic :D I hope you like this chapter :)_

_Please let me know if I make any major mistakes in this... I didn't go back and edit it very thoroughly :s_

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Merlin leaned up against the bars.

"What do you want?" he hissed at her, trying in vain to twist his wrists free of their chains. Morgause watched him, her expression thoughtful and, almost, apprehensive.

"Who are you, Merlin?" she asked, softly, advancing on him. Merlin stared at her.

"I'm me. I'm Merlin. I'm just a-"

"What? Just a servant?" Morgause laughed, "what is a servant doing _here_, Merlin?"

"But I _am _a servant," Merlin cried, confused.

"You are Emrys," Morgause hurled the words at him, spitting his other name at him for the second time, and Merlin had to force himself not to flinch away from them. He didn't know what to say. Should he deny it, and act innocent, or admit to her who he was and then take the first opportunity to show her just how much power he really had? He chose the first option.

"Who's Emrys?" he asked, feigning curiosity, pressing his face harder to the metal. Morgause glared at him, her eye flashing, dangerously.

"Do not play with me, boy," she said, "or things could get _very _ugly for you." Merlin snorted,

"I wouldn't play with you if you knew the rules to every game in Camelot." He stated, aware that it was a rather silly comeback, but he couldn't face acting serious in front of her. To act serious would be like admitting he was in danger. Admitting that he was scared and trapped inside a tiny cage.

But then something slapped him across the face and his neck was flung backwards, and he was being thrown again and again against the bars of the cage. Morgause's hand was held before her and her eyes glowed gold. Merlin didn't know how long she made him fly and crash and collide against the bars, only that when he finally fell back to the floor, every part of his body was screaming, and spots were popping up in front of his eyes.

"Emrys," Morgause then said, speaking as if nothing had happened, and she didn't have a young man slumped and bleeding before her, "is supposedly the most powerful Warlock in the world. The druids believe that one day he will come and bring peace to Camelot. To restore magic to the Kingdom. I tried to find Emrys. I invited him here. And he came." Morgause bent down, so that her eyes were level with Merlin's.

And Merlin couldn't really see the point of arguing with her. Her opinion would not be swayed: she knew he was Emrys. He nodded.

"Yes," he breathed, looking up at her through his lashes, "he did." And Morgause was surprised to feel herself shudder at the tone of his voice. Merlin smirked.

And he saw her expression suddenly change: whereas before she had been certain he was this great Warlock, now her face was masked with uncertainty.

"Prove it." She demanded, rattling the bars and making Merlin wince as the noise echoed through his head. Merlin waited till the pounding stopped and then held out his chained wrists.

"Release me," he said, "and I'll prove it." Morgause hesitated, and then said,

"Aaron! Unlock the cage and take him to the circus tent, but don't remove his chains... yet."

Merlin's eyes never left Morgause's as Aaron stumped over and flung open the cage doors, and then dragged Merlin out.

"I would be afraid, Morgause," Merlin said, softly, standing up as straight as he could, feeling his back crack as he stretched. He didn't wince. Didn't flinch. Didn't allow his knees to buckle.

Morgause's eyes widened.

For one moment, Merlin saw the fear flash across her perfect features.

And then she sneered.

"You won't hurt me, Merlin." She said.

"Yeah?" Merlin took a step towards her, and noted with pleasure how she instinctively took a step back.

"If you don't do _exactly _as I say, Merlin, I've still got the girl."

That was when Merlin remembered Sarah, and he felt his lips peel back off his teeth as he snarled. It was such an out of character thing to do that he surprised himself. It was like, for a moment, he had turned into some kind of animal, and the blood on his face and hands just made him more terrifying. In that second, Morgause could truly see someone with immense power in Merlin's face, and then she forced herself to remember that Merlin was just a boy. He could be beaten. Whether he was Emrys or not, he simply wasn't old enough or experienced enough to have more power than her.

At least, that's what she told herself.

* * *

><p>Merlin was shoved through the tent flaps. He expected to once again enter on the top level, but he did not. Instead, he felt himself flying upwards, like he had stepped into the bottom of a deep hole and was now shooting back towards the surface, flanked by his captors.<p>

It was dizzying, and Merlin thought he might be sick, but then his feet thudded against the ground, and Aaron's meaty hands were on his shoulders, holding him upright. He took a few deep breaths, in through his nose, out through his mouth, and felt the nausea pass. Then he looked about him: the atmosphere in the tent had changed completely.

It was still full of people, who hadn't been bothered to leave, even after the last act had finished. Now they stared down at the three of them, frowning and muttering to each other.

"Is that blood?" they whispered, "who did that to him? Wait, I saw him earlier! Who is he?"

"We have," Morgause called to the people, who fell silent, "one final act!" there was a pause as her words flew round the tent, and then the assembled audience let out a roar of appreciation, and Merlin's eyes watered: only minutes ago, he had been wishing that the show would last forever. Now he was the entertainment which would make it go on that little bit longer.

"Now, Emrys," Morgause stood beside Merlin and breathed into his ear, "prove that you are worth keeping alive but, if anyone in this tent is harmed, you can be sure that the girl won't survive the night."

Merlin gritted his teeth, as Morgause ordered Aaron to remove the chains from around his wrists and ankles.

He knew he could do it: he could escape, taking Sarah with him. Morgause could threaten him all she liked, but _he _was Emrys, and _he _had the upper hand.

Once the chains had been removed, Merlin felt that fire rise within him, which was his magic returning in sweet waves. Aaron leaned close to Merlin and spat into his bruised face while he spoke:

"Your Prince isn't here now, Emrys," he leered, "show us what you can do."

And Merlin looked past him, to the sea of sorcerers, all staring at him. He could feel the magic building, furiously, behind his eyes.

"Back away," he growled, raising his hands.

* * *

><p>Merlin wasn't sure where the inspiration for the spell came from. Maybe it was just his sudden desire to cause destruction. Chaos. Fear.<p>

His eyes shone gold as he stood, his head held high, and the canvas of the tent began to compress, compacting. The long poles, holding up the tent, were being twisted and crushed, as though a pair of giant hands had its fingers around them.

At first, the audience was awestruck and then, they began to panic. The walls of the tent seemed to have hardened, turning into concrete, and the whole thing was folding in on itself. Screams echoed loudly in Merlin's ears, as the people tried to escape, running for the exits, but they had vanished: everything had turned to hard. Turned to cold. Turned to magic.

Morgause's eyes were as round as saucers as she stared at Merlin. Never had she seen such power. She tried casting a spell to stop him, but Merlin somehow deflected it, without uttering a word.

"I'll kill the girl!" she screeched, "I'll kill her!"

But Merlin ignored her, both hands still raised, his face smothered with concentration.

His plan was to make the tent as small as possible without actually killing anyone. Then he would cast a spell allowing him to escape, grab Sarah and run to warn Arthur that Morgause was coming. He trusted that, together, the innocent would be able to find a way out of the tent. They must have enough power between them.

And his plan would have gone perfectly. It would have worked.

It would have worked had it not been for the cry.

It rent the thinning air, a pitiful scream of terror, and Merlin was finally distracted. His head snapped round to see a tiny child, about four years old: a little boy yelling, his voice enhanced by a magic he obviously had no control over. Tears poured down his face as his small fists pounded against the hardened walls.

And Merlin faltered. His spell stuttered.

He cast Morgause a look of disgust: how could she let someone so young become involved in her twisted plans?

Morgause just smiled.

She was by his side in a moment, clamping the cuffs back around his wrists. He struggled, lashing out at her, but she darted out of the way, till the chains were secured and Merlin dropped to his knees, despair crawling around his heart.

"Ah, Emrys, do not be sad," Morgause knelt beside him, and put a finger beneath a chin, forcing his face upwards to look at her, "once you have helped me kill Uther, and his son, we can put all this behind us. Sorcerers will be free once more!"

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><p><em>So, you like? I finally managed to put the summary in there, you might have noticed :D<em>

_Still quite a lot of Merlin's story to go though..._

_Please review :D_


	13. Chapter 13

_Whew! I seriously didn't think I was going to be able to get this chapter up today, BUT I MADE IT :D I am extremely sorry if there are any mistakes but, well, it's midnight where I am, so Imma bit sleepy... if you see any horribly obvious ones, please point them out :)_

_Your reviews continue to be beautiful, thank you :D_

_Oh, and Daisy, there's not much Arthur in this chappie but you can fully expect him in the next one :D_

_And I'm sorry Kitty O... I believe I might have said I would try and get this chapter up early for you but, um, yeah... that didn't quite happen :s dreadfully sorry :p _

_Warnings: There is a bit of torture in this chapter, but it's not too graphic :s_

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

Merlin writhed against the bars of his cage, his neck thrown back as the scream tore his throat apart. Morgause sat on a bench in the little cave, watching Merlin as though with interest. Her eyes glowing gold every few seconds. Each time they did, Merlin felt as though hot irons were being pressed to his skin, kissing his eyelids and making them burn.

"I'll stop, Merlin," Morguase offered, as she allowed the boy to relax, for a moment. He looked up at her, his eyes refusing to open all the way, his mouth hanging open as he panted. How long had it been? He tried to think. Not three days. Not yet.

"When?" he asked, and then cursed himself, as he already knew the answer: what was the point of wasting his breath and strength on such pointless questions?

"When you promise to join us," Morgause was yelling in frustration.

"No." Merlin said, firmly, only to be rewarded with another magical branding.

Morgause left him for hours at a time, returning at unexpected moments, just when Merlin was beginning to wonder if he was safe and she'd given up torturing him, at last.

She had relayed her plan to him, in between curses. It was painfully simple. It would be painfully effective: get into the castle, destroy anyone who refused to join them. Take Uther. Wait for Arthur to come and rescue him. Kill them both.

"Killing Arthur will not solve your problems." Merlin had said, and Morgause laughed,

"But you do not deny," she said "that killing Uther will." Merlin pursed his lips, unsure what to answer. Uther _was _the cause of Morgause's, Morgana's and even Merlin's misery, but he didn't need to die. Moreover, Arthur didn't need to have the loss of his remaining parent on his shoulders. Arthur didn't need the responsibility of being King thrown upon him quite so suddenly.

"Morgana cannot be queen." Merlin stated, and Morgause frowned.

"So you know?" she said, barely surprised after everything that had been revealed about the manservant, "you know that she's Uther's daughter."

"Yes." Merlin glared at her, "and I also know that she will not be what the people want. She will use her power selfishly, and the whole of Camelot will suffer for it," at these words, Morgause had hurled herself to her feet, and drawn a knife from her sleeve, slashing it against Merlin's cheek, pulling it down over his lips, so that blood trickled down his chin. Merlin barely even flinched, but ploughed on, ignoring the stinging in his lips, "Arthur _will _bring magic back to the Kingdom. It is his destiny. By starting this war, you are interfering. You are in the wrong, Morgause. Neither you or Morgana can restore Camelot to what it once was. Only Arthur."

Of course, she hadn't listened. Or, she had, but had ignored it.

Now, with Merlin crying out from pain, she got to her feet and swept from the cave. Merlin watched her go, but couldn't bring himself to care: she left, but the pain didn't. He hated being left alone to contemplate his situation as much as he hated Morgause being there with him.

Then, after about five minutes, which felt more like days, Morgause was back, dragging someone in her wake.

* * *

><p>Sarah was hurled into the little hollow, stumbling forwards, her breath catching in her throat as she regained her balance. Morgause gave a small nod to Aaron and Brom who stood nearby, like body guards, and they stepped forwards, blocking the way out of the cave, only letting Morgause slip past.<p>

Sarah stood there for a moment, her eyes widening as she took in Merlin's bruised and bloodied figure. And then she turned, and Merlin thought she was going to make a run for it. He wouldn't have minded: why should she stay for him? But thoughts of running hadn't even crossed her mind. Instead, she strode over to where Aaron stood and said,

"Put me in the cage. You know Morgause allows it." Aaron glared down at her for a moment, contemplating, before grabbing her arm and marching her to the cage. Within seconds she was inside, crawling over to where Merlin sat, quivering.

Aaron slammed and locked the cage doors behind her.

"Merlin," Sarah whispered, and Merlin looked up to see her eyes filled and glistening with unshed tears. He tried to smile at her, and sort of managed, his lips splitting his face into a kind of grin... but it never reached his eyes, and the happy effect was marred by the blood, seeping from the wound in his cheek. "I'm sorry," she said, hesitantly reaching forwards, and wiping away the blood. Merlin winced.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He told her.

"Morgause sent me to convince you... to make you join her." She said in a rush, staring intently at Merlin, to judge his reaction. The young man gave out a small sigh.

"I know," he told her, gently. Why else would Morgause have allowed Merlin to see someone who might actually make him happy?

"Maybe... maybe you should," Sarah said, in a low voice, "she's hurting you. Maybe it would be better to just do as she says." Merlin looked at Sarah's face, and chose his words carefully.

"Earlier today-" he paused: had it been today? It was so hard to keep track of time. He shook his head and carried on, "you told me you were different. You said you were born like this... born with magic," and now Merlin leaned forwards, so he was looking straight into her confused eyes, "I was too, Sarah. I could cast spells before I could walk and talk. It's who I am. And I have been given a chance to use my power for good, and I mean something _really _great. I am manservant to Prince Arthur, the son of the King of Camelot, and it is my _destiny _to help him grow into someone who will one day restore peace and magic to the Kingdom. I cannot join Morgause. I could never do anything to hurt Arthur. Not ever." His eyes did not leave Sarah's for a second, even when tears began to spill from the amber depths of hers.

"I thought... I thought I was alone. I met people who could do magic, but they learnt it. None were as powerful as I am. But they said they'd help me: once a week, a man would come and take me to a small clearing, where we met and practiced magic. Nothing dark, or anything... it was like a sort of school, where they taught me to do simple spells, and control my... outbursts. My father had no idea. Somehow, whenever he was around, my magic wouldn't come unless I asked it to. All he saw was a strange man, sneaking me from his pub every week. I mean, they would have sent women, but they thought it was too dangerous if they got caught so close to Camelot.

"My father, well, he jumped to the wrong conclusions, and it was understandable. You see, my mother had many children, but none were my full brothers or sisters. It hurt my father, but he loved her till the day she died. But he never really trusted that I wasn't like her, even though I really am a lot more like him..." Sarah trailed off, and sniffed, shaking her head, "I'm sorry Merlin, talking about myself when it's _you _we should be worrying about!"

"I'm fine," Merlin assured her, even though he obviously wasn't, "but you understand why I cannot help Morgause?"

"Of course I do," Sarah said, instantly, "I just don't want you to get hurt, Merlin." Merlin smiled at her: she really was very sweet. And pretty.

"Well, I doubt they can do much more to me," he said, even though he could imagine a hundred different means of torture Morgause might use before the three days were up.

After that, Merlin and Sarah talked of other things, apart from the horrible situation they were in. Merlin spoke of life in Camelot, and what it was like working for a Prince. He found that he couldn't keep from reminiscing about Arthur in particular, and knew that it was easy to tell how much he missed the arrogant prat.

Sarah told him more about her mother and father, and little, secret school of magic she had gone to. Merlin thought it sounded truly fascinating.

But, it couldn't last.

Merlin had almost forgotten where he was, that he was merely on a break between sessions of questioning, and torture. After perhaps half an hour, Morgause returned, and Sarah was dragged from Merlin's side, even as she clutched desperately at his fingers, and Brom took her away, but Merlin had no idea where.

* * *

><p>"So," Morgause walked forwards, "have you changed your mind yet, Emrys? Will you fight alongside your fellow sorcerers?" Merlin drew himself up before her, squaring his shoulders.<p>

"No." He said, and Morgause's face darkened, so that a real tremor of fear started in Merlin's stomach.

Morgause cursed inwardly: she had really thought the girl might be able to change the stubborn warlock's mind. Oh well. At least Morgause could continue to make Merlin suffer for his refusal to do what was right, and for what he had done to her sister. Anger flared up inside Morgause when she remembered finding Morgana, her lips dripping with poison...

"Well," she said, softly, "that's not the answer I want to hear," she drew the dagger from her sleeve, once more, "and if you don't say what I want to hear, Emrys, you won't say anything at all." Merlin eyed the dagger. He wanted to tell her that she could not stop him from doing anything but, of course, she could. He had no power against her, with his power held back by these heavy chains.

Morgause advanced, slipping the knife between the bars of the cage, and pressing the flat side against his lips. Merlin tried to jerk away from the cold silver surface, but Morgause was using a spell which stopped his head from moving away, but did not stop him from shivering. She smirked, and Merlin knew she wanted him to feel humiliated while she hurt him. She wanted to see him quaking with fear, whilst knelt at her feet.

"I'll ask you once more, Merlin," she said, "will you join me?" Merlin's mouth was too dry to talk, and he still couldn't move his head. He licked his lips, and willed his voice to return.

"No." He managed, again.

Morgause carefully turned the knife, so now the sharp blade pressed into his lips, instantly drawing blood. Merlin moaned, softly.

"Really, Merlin, you should know not to refuse me," another twist of the dagger, and she was forcing it _into _his mouth, which he opened as wide as possible, trying not to let it touch anything. Morgause turned the knife, horribly slow, watching Merlin's Adams apple bob, and listening as his jaw cracked, as he forced it wider and wider...

But he could not escape the slick sharp silver: as she turned it, it nicked the roof of his mouth, and he gasped, his tongue lifting, for a second, only to be impaled by the knife. Saliva and blood built up behind his bottom teeth, and he had to spit it out, but it was impossible, as was gulping or swallowing. He just sat there completely frozen and terrified. After a minute, Morgause got fed up of Merlin's stillness, and span the blade faster, moving it up and down, side to side, making Merlin scream in agony, unable to move as his mouth completely filled with iron.

* * *

><p>The next day, Merlin found he could not speak. It scared him more than he could say, and his fingers scrabbled desperately at his throat as he willed noise to come. And it did, eventually, but only in squeaks and whimpers: his tongue refused to move and simply lay there, bloody and heavy behind his teeth.<p>

And Morgause just watched him, unable to contain her laughter at the sight of the great Emrys crying like a baby, coughing blood and unable to reach his magic.

"You made your choice, Emrys," she told him, "so soon we will march on Camelot, without your assistance. But you will watch as your Prince falls, and maybe then you'll be able to decide where your true loyalties lie."

And she left him, not to return to the little hollow. Left him to claw at his own face and neck in frustration and fear and confusion. It was not her who wrenched the hair from his scalp: he did that himself, as he curled up on the floor of the cage, wanting to howl in his anguish, but unable.

Soon, Gwaine and Godfrey would spot the magical army and Godfrey would sneak in and join them. Would embrace his daughter, crying softly into her hair, without shame, whilst Gwaine ran ahead to warn Arthur.

Arthur who now stood over his greatest friend, fear rolling off him like the sweat falling from his brow.

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><p><em>And that's what happened to Merlin... hope it didn't disappoint :) Please, pretty please, leave a review and let me know what you think of the story thus far :D MUCH LOVE<em>


	14. Chapter 14

_Hey everyone :) It feels like ages since I last updated, but it's only been a week, right?_

_A fan: Thank you! :D_

_CeeRat: I'm glad you liked Sarah's backstory... I really didn't want Godfrey to sound all heartless :)_

_Daisy: Thanks :) haha, I love sassy!merlin 3 :D_

_OH MY GOODNESS! 99 REVIEWS! My excitement HAS NO END! A massive truck load of magic popcorn to my 100th reviewer :D_

_oh yeah, warnings: more battling... some minor bits of violence. _

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><p><strong>Chapter 14 <strong>

Arthur's hand hovered over Merlin for a moment, before he took a steadying breath, and drew it back. Then he turned, his heart hammering harder than he thought it ever had before.

Outside, the battle was still raging, and it was shock to be thrown back into the chaos, after the shuddering silence that was Merlin. Arthur shut his eyes, just for one second, and unsheathed his sword, crashing back into that part of himself that felt nothing, only the coldness of war. That part where he needn't think of anything apart from killing and not being killed.

He didn't think of Merlin. He didn't think of Gaius or Morgana, or even Morgause. Nothing mattered apart from Camelot. Nothing mattered apart from his own survival. If he survived, he could sort the rest out later.

That's what Arthur told himself, as he swung his sword, ramming the blade between the enemies' ribs. But it was near impossible.

That man had hair, the same shade as Merlin's. That young girl had his eye colour (well, almost. No one had _exactly _Merlin's eye colour). She had skin like Morgana. He had knots on his fingers, like Gaius. The thoughts were almost painful, as he tried to ignore them, force them away. He couldn't fight like this. It was all too much.

And then the voice rang out, Morgause's voice, right next to his ear.

"Give up, Arthur Pendragon." Arthur gasped, his lips parted, smothered in blood and sweat, as he span round, his sword raised. Morgause darted backwards, out of his reach, standing there surrounded by danger, but no one could touch her, as her eyes blazed gold, stopping anyone getting closer than a few feet. Consequently, there was a circle around her, which no one could enter. Arthur stared at her, aware that although she was somehow protected, he was not. He swung around, fighting another nameless opponent, their swords clashing, while Morgause watched.

"I have your father," Morgause's whisper somehow carried over to Arthur's ears, "Uther is mine. Camelot is mine." Arthur killed the man he had been fighting. The magic in his eyes vanished, as he fell to the ground. Arthur turned to fight the next.

"Stop this, Morgause," he cried, his muscles screaming for release.

"I will, Arthur," and he suddenly felt her breath on his neck, and he twisted, trying to get her... but of course she was gone before he could, feet away, smiling. Almost serene, "but you must come with me. You must die, Arthur. If you die, and Uther dies, your people will no longer suffer. _Merlin _will no longer suffer," Arthur _almost _whimpered, "Gwen will not begin suffer."

"Gwen?" Arthur killed the second man. Turned to the third. This time it was a woman, and she held no sword. He hesitated, till her eyes flashed gold, and he just managed to dodge the curse she sent. He growled: no longer would he hold back because of an enemies' sex. They were all the same. He began to battle the witch.

Morgause chuckled, "you haven't thought about Gwen much lately have you, Arthur? Maybe I should remind you. I'll have her killed, as easily as I had Sarah,"

"_You had_?" Arthur spluttered. His sword met flesh. The witch died.

"What? I told them to kill her, if they saw her. I knew she would fight for Emrys, not for me."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur spat, finally turning to face her. Morgause smiled,

"Oh, I forgot you wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know what?" Arthur roared, frustration and anger and hurt clogging his veins.

"Come with me, Arthur." And her voice was soothing, kind almost, "I'll take you to your father. We'll end this together. Camelot will be saved, and all you have to do is come with me."

And it was all too easy. Simple, for him to reach out, suddenly able to push past that magical barrier, and place his hand in hers, because what other choice did he have, really? If it was his life that had to be taken, let her take it. He could carry on fighting here, forever and ever, but he would die, eventually. At least this way, he had a small sliver of hope. Maybe, if he just went with her, he could over power her. He could still save Camelot.

Morgause held him tightly, as they span into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Merlin sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake and panting.<p>

"Merlin," Gaius rushed to his side. Merlin tried to talk, tell him what he had seen, because Morgause had forced the images into his mind. She had Arthur. Stupid, stupid Arthur, going with her because he thought it was the only way.

But, of course, Merlin couldn't talk. Only gasp and groan as he stumbled to his feet.

"Merlin, sit down." Gaius ordered, but Merlin just shook his head. Arthur needed his help, and Merlin was always there for Arthur. He always would be.

So Merlin just stood forwards and drew Gaius into a shaky hug, kissing the old man's brow, trying not to wince as his split lips pressed against his papery skin. Then, he moved away, breaking into a run. How he managed to move at all was a mystery. Merlin doubted that, had anyone but Arthur needed him, he wouldn't have been able to.

Merlin could feel Morgause inside his head, could hear every word she uttered, and could see where she stood, but she was distracted. Doing three things at once.

Merlin paused, panting before the great front doors, leading out onto the battle, trying to find out what these three things were.

Firstly, she was clutching onto Arthur's arm, dragging him forwards towards the slumped and bleeding figure of Uther. Merlin recognised that they were inside the immense circus tent, although where this was situated, Merlin had no idea.

Secondly, she was tracking Merlin, making sure she knew where he was.

And thirdly... thirdly she was communicating with someone _inside _the castle, and Merlin had a horrible idea of who that someone might be. But he didn't have time to go running after Morgana when Arthur was in so much danger. He cast about him quickly, his eyes sweeping over the wreck of an entrance hall: some of the fighters had moved in here, although not many, and dead bodies littered the floor, and blood was spattered up the walls. He wondered if Morgana was heading this way now, and decided that he didn't want to hang around to find out. He ducked out of the castle, keeping his head lowered as he ran full pelt through the warriors, his eyes occasionally flashing to ward off unwelcome spells or swords.

"Merlin?" Merlin was pulled up short, by the voice, so welcome upon his ears. _Gwaine_! His lips formed the word, but he merely choked on it. Gwaine was bloodstained and breathing hard, as he reached Merlin's side, "what the _hell _are you doing out here? Get inside _now_." Merlin merely reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's arm and squeezing it. Gwaine stared at him confused, and Merlin shook his head, "can you... can you speak, Merlin?" Gwaine asked thickly. Merlin gave a small sigh, realising that this might take a while, and cast a protective spell around them. Then he shook his head again. Gwaine's eyes widened.

"Oh Gods, Merlin, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault; I shouldn't have let you go. I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Merlin pressed bruised hand over Gwaine's mouth, and shook his head for a third time, trying desperately to form words. _Arthur's in trouble,_ he wanted to say, _I need to go to him_. Gwaine seemed to, vaguely, understand, "Listen, Merlin," he said, "whatever's happened... wherever you're going, I'm coming too. I'm helping." And Merlin smiled: he didn't want to put his friend in danger, but he didn't think he could face Morgause alone just yet.

He clutched even tighter to Gwaine's arm and then tried something he'd never tried before.

Merlin had never even attempted to travel using his magic. Well, he'd done a bit of flying when he was younger, but it was dead uncomfortable, especially when he fell onto someone's roof. But he hadn't the time for flying now, anyway. He needed instant transportation. Plus, he had to bring another person with him, which would no doubt make it ten times harder.

* * *

><p>Arthur couldn't breathe, his vision clouded as he collapsed beside his father. He pressed two trembling fingers to Uther's neck and groaned in relief when he felt the stuttering pulse.<p>

Morgause had flung the prince away from her, with something like disgust on her face, and was calling to Morgana, invading her sister's mind:

_Come sister, _she said, _I have your father and brother. Emrys shall be joining us soon. Oh, Morgana, I have a surprise for you_.

Morgause could feel Morgana getting closer.

_Morgause_, she breathed into her mind, _what is the plan, when I join you? If any of this goes wrong, I must not be discovered_.

_Nothing will go wrong, sister._

_But, what if-_

_I will make it seem as if you have been brought here by force. Arthur will not suspect you till the very end, when we take his life. Both of us together._

Morgana fled down the stairs, twirling into darkness as she did so, desperate to see Morgause. Perhaps somewhere, deep inside, she felt something unwelcome. Guilt, possibly. Arthur loved her. Uther loved her. But she would see them both dead tonight.

Morgana couldn't be sure whether it was savage pleasure, or grief which filled her. After a moment, she decided it was the former.

Once Morgana arrived, it wasn't hard for Morgause to act as though she had been forced to come, summoned by Morgause's magic. Morgana put on a great show, struggling and crying... _convincing_. Arthur yelled and fought, but Morgause held him at bay, laughing. She could sense Merlin getting closer.

Morgause then explained to Arthur about Emrys. How great he was, how powerful. Arthur listened to her, trying not to show any fear, even as he protectively held his dying father in his arms, and kept his eyes fixed on Morgana. Arthur couldn't help that he feared magic. He had grown up fearing it, and he didn't at all like the sound of this Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth.

And then Morgause said,

"Emrys is coming. He shall be the next person to enter this tent."

* * *

><p><em>I hope the ending of this chapter doesn't seem to rushed... I kind of wanted it to feel detatched because poor Arty has no idea what's going on :( Also, sorry about the cliffy :s<em>

_Now, I need your opinion: reveal fic, or no?_

_I've been apprehensive about writing a reveal, but I'm up for it if that's what you want to read. I have two alternative endings, vaguely mapped out... if I do a reveal, the fic will be longer than if I don't :) _

_THANKSALOT FOR READING x _


	15. Chapter 15

_HOLA! Oh my goodness, I'm late... I'm so sorry everyone, especially with all the amazing reviews I got. Seriously. They blew my mind._

_I've just been mentally busy and last night I got home like WAHHH I NEED TO UPDATE CIRCUS OF SORCERY and then I just... well... I fell asleep :s_

_ALSO, I don't think I managed to reply to everyone's reviews, and I'm sorry for that too. Things have just gotten pretty hectic around here._

_Ok, Chapter 15. I shall not ruin this for you by telling you whether I've decided on reveal or not (even though I think I may have told some of you when I still had time to reply to reviews...) but I hope you enjoy it, even if I went against your descision. THANKYOU and please review :D_

_ohohohohoh totally forgot! My 100th reviewer! MamzelleHermy! I give thee a truckload of magic popcorn, as promised ;)_

_Warning: character death... :s_

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Arthur didn't understand. His ears were still ringing with the sounds of battle and, although Morgause was talking to him, it seemed like her words were directed at Morgana, more than anything else. It was as if she sought to impress the king's ward, with stories of this Emrys.

Emrys.

Who the hell _was _Emrys? A sorcerer. A powerful one. That was all Arthur could really gather, and the idea scared him, but not as much as it ought to have. Maybe it was because he had just fought magic, mere minutes ago, or maybe it was because Morgause simply wasn't explaining properly.

Arthur could only guess that Emrys was being summoned. Summoned here to... what? Kill him, Arthur guessed. Kill him, Morgana and Uther.

Morgana struggled: she had been tied with rope to one of the wooden shafts, holding the canvas tent upright. With _rope_. And the knots weren't even that strong! Arthur frowned. He wanted to tell Morgana, that she could escape if she tried, but he didn't want her to break free, only to be seized once more.

Neither he nor his father were bound. Of course, there was no need, for Uther: he was out cold. And there was no need for Arthur, either. Morgause knew that Arthur wouldn't even think of escaping.

And then she said, "Emrys is coming. He shall be the next person to enter this tent." And Arthur almost felt relieved. Let them just get this over with.

And by this thought, Arthur didn't mean 'let Emrys just kill us', he meant 'let us destroy this Emrys.'

* * *

><p>Gwaine winced at the pressure Merlin was putting on his arm. He wanted to tell Merlin to hurry up with whatever he was doing, but the boy was still deathly pale, with blood on his face, and Gwaine didn't really have the heart to say anything, especially as Merlin wouldn't be able to respond with any witty retorts. Gwaine's stomach seemed to clench at the thought. Merlin held even tighter.<p>

Merlin wondered if he could do it, in this state, or in _any _state. Could he travel through space, arriving at his destination in a second? He shook his head to clear it, and took a deep breath, because it didn't matter whether he could do it or not. He didn't have a choice. The Dragon had made this decision for him, long ago, when Merlin had first arrived in Camelot; Merlin's purpose was to protect Arthur, so Merlin _would _go and save him from Morgause, whatever it took.

And not just because of the Dragon, or even destiny, something at the back of Merlin's mind whispered.

Then, he thought of Morgause. He let her face fill his mind, and it choked him with so many painful memories that he almost doubled over from the strength of them. But now, he was determined. He thought of her eyes, the most. He had hardly ever seen them at their natural brown, only their fiery gold. And, as he thought of their shining light, magic flooded through him, and everything went dark, so dark that even the air deserted them, leaving both Merlin and Gwaine completely breathless, as they stood there. And then, Merlin took a step forwards, into the swallowing black, dragging Gwaine alongside him.

Gwaine couldn't believe it. One minute, they had been standing in the middle of a battlefield, then it had gone dark, for perhaps a second, and now...

He looked around. They were in a field, still in Camelot, not even too far from the castle. When he looked over his shoulder, he could see it, bright and burning. In the other direction, ahead of them, was a huge tent, and Merlin had already dropped Gwaine's arm, and was heading straight for it.

Gwaine was shaking his head in disbelief when he caught up with his friend.

"That was amazing," he said, "I can't believe you didn't tell me you could do this kind of stuff sooner! It's so... so... just incredible, really Merlin." And he thought he saw the corners of Merlin's mouth twitch, but then the almost-smile turned into a wince of pain.

When they reached the entrance to the tent, Merlin pressed his ear against the canvas, but he could hear nothing. He sighed: he had felt the power of the protective enchantment from way across the field, stopping anyone from hearing what was going on inside. Still, he had hoped to have some idea of what was happening to the Prince and King, before he barged inside. What if Uther was happily striding about, and Merlin burst in and started cursing everything in sight (well... just Morgause)? What if _Arthur_ was happily striding about? Merlin had been protecting his secret for _so _long.

But it didn't matter. It didn't matter if Uther decided to set his execution date for the next morning. Arthur simply had to be saved, and if Merlin dying was the price to pay for that, Merlin would give his life in a second.

He curled his fingers around the flap of the entrance, about to pull it back, when Gwaine grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait, Merlin, you can't just go in there!" he hissed, "I mean... I don't even know what we're doing, but I'm sure that whatever is in that tent isn't going to be bunny rabbit safe," Merlin raised an eyebrow at this, but Gwaine pressed on, "let me go in first, no Merlin, don't shake your head. I know you're powerful, Gods, don't I know it, but you're still injured, and you'll stand a better chance if you at least know what you're up against. Let me just take a look, Merlin, _please_."

Merlin hesitated, looking at Gwaine.

Gwaine had no idea Morgause was in there, or exactly what she was capable of. But, if Gwaine went first, he could warn Merlin of Uther. He _needed_ Gwaine.

But he couldn't let his friend walk into such danger. It wasn't _right_.

* * *

><p>Inside the tent, they all watched as the long pale fingers, curled around the flap. Arthur's heartbeat quickened, and he was horrified by how his eyes were suddenly stinging, and his stomach churning: damn his father for inducing these fears! But then, the fingers withdrew, and Arthur could breathe again, although he glanced at Morgause, confusion written all over his face. It seemed to have become his permanent expression. He was surprised to find the same emotions mirrored on her features.<p>

Morgause was staring at the place where the fingers had vanished, and then she was stalking forwards, anger etched onto her pretty face. Then, halfway there, someone ripped back the canvas, and stepped into the tent, a flurry of hair and leather, and a white smile.

Morgause froze where she stood, while Arthur just gaped. Morgana was staring at Morgause, a small line between her eyebrows.

Gwaine was smiling, but it was a manic thing. He glanced at Arthur and gave him a curt nod, and then threw himself at Morgause. He forgot about the sword, hanging from his belt. He forgot about everything, except the woman who had muted his best friend. His hands found her throat, and he felt the satisfaction of his fingers, circling the bones and skin and steadily beating pulse. Screaming filled his ears, but he wasn't sure whose it was: his, Morgana's... maybe Morgause was screaming, although he didn't know how: surely his hands were stopping her voice. If he couldn't kill her he would at least make sure she could never speak again. Anger and hatred were clouding his vision, and he thought this was it. She was going to die, at _his _hand.

But Gwaine had miscalculated. He knew Morgana was there, but he thought she would be too scared to help. Too scared of revealing herself.

It turned out that Morgana's love for her half sister went deeper than Gwaine would have believed possible for someone so... _twisted_.

And he was flying, flying back from the witch, and then slamming onto the ground, sprawling and gasping. He managed to sit up in time to see Morgana's eyes fade back to green. Quickly, Gwaine sought out Arthur, to see if he had noticed, but Arthur had been following Gwaine's fall, and only now did he turn to see Morgana, and now it was too late.

Morgause was struggling to her feet, her face red and her neck bruised as she gasped and choked. She was furious, mostly with herself: she had been focusing solely on Merlin's arrival, and had not even realised someone had accompanied him and then, this man had caught her unawares, before she had a chance to even begin to reach for her magic. She glared at him, her eyes dark and blazing. He would die for what he tried to do.

* * *

><p>Outside the tent, Merlin bit his lip. It had taken little persuasion for Gwaine to convince Merlin to let him go first. It shamed Merlin, how little, and now he had no idea what was going on. He couldn't hear or see anything. It was too much. Merlin <em>had <em>to know, he _had _to find out... he took a deep breath, and walked inside.

Morgause had Gwaine in the air, struggling for breath, floating and choking. Arthur was on his feet, screaming something, trying to run forwards, but Morgause had created some kind of invisible barrier, and Arthur couldn't get through. He pounded his fists, seemingly against the air, but Merlin knew that, in reality, it would be hard as stone.

Morgana was tied loosely to a wooden beam, even paler than usual.

Merlin's eyes roved over it all, until he saw Uther, lying there, his eyes shut. Oblivious. Unconscious. Never had Merlin seen a more welcome sight than the unaware King.

Then Arthur saw him, and Merlin was vaguely aware of the silence that fell, when Arthur stopped yelling. Vaguely. And then Merlin allowed everything he'd held back, every bitter feeling towards Morgause and Morgana and Arthur and Uther and the Great Dragon, he let it all spill out in one spell, his lips not needing to even twitch.

Morgause, pushing a blade between his lips. Morgana, hating him, hating everyone. Arthur, thinking he was useless. Uther, with his stupid damn laws and stupid damn paranoia. The Dragon with its bloody cryptic advice.

He aimed it all at the witch. Every last drop of every cruel feeling. He forced it from his body, and watched as she switched targets, Gwaine falling to the floor, as she tried to block the curse. But she couldn't do it; the magic came but it was far, far too slow. Emrys moved at the speed of light; the light that burst around Merlin's pupils, making the irises melt, like chips of ice. Her last expression was one of disbelief, when the fire finally reached her, engulfing her, running threw her, shooting from Merlin's fingertips, his toes, his chest, and his eyes... and then she fell, a burning hole through her heart. She had not screamed. She had not made a sound.

It had been so easy, Merlin thought, as he looked down at her, crumpled and destroyed. Morgana finally pulled free of the ropes, and stumbled forwards, her face twisted. She stared from her sister to Merlin, unable to form words. Merlin wondered what he ought to do about Morgana. He decided to let her make the first move.

She stood there, for just a moment, her chest rising and falling, and then she stepped over Morgause, fumbling over to Arthur's side.

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, his heart beating so hard he was surprised it didn't fail.

It was too much for the Prince. It was all far too much.

* * *

><p><em>And that's it. I hope it was satisfactory :) I have to say, quite a lot of emotion went into this particular chapter.<em>

_And now, I have some bad news... I, um, well... I'm going away twice within the next few weeks so I won't be able to update foratleasttwoweeks. I feel bad because I left you on a pretty evil cliffhanger but, hopefully it's good enough to make you come back when the next chappie arrives. I shall get it up absalutely as soon as I can._

_LOVEYOUALLMUCHLY_


	16. Chapter 16

_Hey everyone! Long time no see, eh? Well, I'll just tell you now that, for the time being, my updates are going to be pretty random. It seems that my family have suddenly organised a spontanious holiday, that involves me leaving the country, about which I'm tres excited, but it means that my stories are going to all over the place for a while. Sorry about that._

_Bit of Morgana POV for you, at the beginning of this chapter, which I haven't done much of before so, fun times :)_

_I hope you enjoy! Please keep reviewing :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

Morgana had been feigning her struggle against the ropes, which her sister had almost lovingly wrapped around her wrists, loose enough to break away from with the slightest twist. It made it harder to fake being trapped, what with being so almost obviously free, but Morgana was a good actress. And Arthur had a skull almost as thick as his father's.

_Her_ father's.

It had filled her with a sick pleasure, seeing Uther, sprawled on the floor. His consciousness had been taken from him with a snap of Morgause's fingers. He had no right to it, not anymore.

Arthur however... well, she knew it was part of the plan, to kill her half brother (she always thought of him as her _half brother_, where as Morgause was just her sister) but it didn't feel as nice to watch him squirm beneath Morgause's gaze, as he tried to block Uther from her view, and comfort Morgana at the same time. Morgana was one of the few people who ever saw Arthur looking like he did now: vulnerable. She guessed another person who had seen it was Merlin.

Morgana's magic twitched angrily at the thought of her half brother's idiot of a manservant. Except he _wasn't _an idiot. Arthur was far more foolish than the serving boy, although that wasn't saying much.

Several things had happened to Morgana then, as she thought this.

First, a man had come barrelling into the tent, and she had tensed, staring. Morgause had said this was Emrys. Well, he wasn't what she'd had in mind when imagining the sorcerer. She would have thought him to be older and wiser looking. On top of that, she had the feeling that she recognised the man, some old friend perhaps, or maybe a stranger she'd passed in the streets. She didn't commit unimportant faces to memory. Maybe she should start, just in case.

Once Morgana had concluded this, she turned to see Morgause, whose face was smothered in a mask of shock. Oh.

So, the man had tried to strangle Morgause, and then had failed when Morgana reached for her magic and sent him hurtling across the tent.

Merlin had been the second person to enter.

And then things had gone wrong. Really wrong.

And Merlin was magic. Of _course _he was. And not only was he magic, but he was Emrys, he must be, and there were dark stains on his clothes, his own blood drenching him, running from the corners of his lips and Morgana wondered just what Morgause had done to her would-be-killer. He looked like he was at Death's door.

That was until he held up his hands, long pale fingers extended towards Morgana's sister, the only person Morgana still loved, still cared about, would still do anything for...

And suddenly, Morgause wasn't there anymore, and something inside Morgana broke. Some bone that had been holding her heart up must have snapped, because it felt as though the organ had sunk into her stomach, a bloody stone of muscle which only just managed to keep pumping after the fall.

Morgana didn't cry. She didn't even flinch, just stared. She could feel Merlin's eyes on her, and it hurt so much that she had to make a decision _now_, that she couldn't scream and rage and gather her sister's body into her arms and just hold close the only person she held dear.

Decide.

Decide.

Morgana stepped carefully over Morgause's body, and stood beside her half-brother. She would keep up the pretence, for now, and then she would figure something out. Then she would kill Merlin while he slept, honour be damned.

* * *

><p>Somehow, Arthur had managed not to pass out. It was almost like he was too far gone, even for that. His body didn't know <em>how <em>to shut down. It was too busy comprehending.

Merlin.

It didn't make any sense to him, nothing linked up, and then there was the feel of his father, the _King,_ lying in his arms. He shook his head, a vain attempt to clear it, wishing it would please just empty!

He was staring at Merlin, he knew, his eyes never leaving the other man's face, but he wasn't _seeing_. Not really.

After a few moments, he became aware that Merlin was having trouble standing. He was quivering like a leaf, and then he was falling, crumpling on the floor. Arthur didn't so much as twitch. He couldn't find it within himself to help. He had a vague feeling that, at another time, he would have sprung to Merlin's aid in an instant. As it was, he didn't think his legs would carry him, and he wasn't sure he wanted them to.

For the moment, at least, Merlin had become something Arthur couldn't understand. Arthur had always been afraid of things he couldn't understand, even though he would never admit it. It hurt how much he _hated _being afraid of the man who had stood by his side for so long. A man who he... who he...

"I trusted-" the words somehow found their way up Arthur's throat, louder than he intended, sounding wild even in his own ears which were roaring with hot blood. A few feet away from them, Gwaine's foot twitched.

Merlin looked up from the floor, straight into Arthur's eyes, wishing for his voice, just for a minute, just so he could _explain_.

"I trusted _you_. I thought you'd always... I never thought-" and Arthur knew he was rambling, while Merlin just sat there, looking so _weak_.

And it was that thought which filled Arthur with anger. At first he was confused by it because, he might get annoyed with Merlin but he'd never felt real, burning anger towards him. Not like this. It felt wrong.

"Don't just sit there," Arthur roared, and Merlin flinched, "don't pretend you have no choice. You can leave right now, you can disappear. You've lied to me _all this time, _and you haven't even cared, have you? It's been a game for you, making me think you were just some stupid, idiot country boy, landing himself a position in the royal household. Did you arrange that? Cast some spell on my father, to make him hire you?" and he went on and on, shouting and raging, long after his anger turned to desperation and frustration. Merlin stayed where he was. He took it all, every word flying straight to his heart.

Morgana watched on. Somehow, her own grief had stopped her from taking any kind of savage pleasure from the situation.

Gwaine was sitting up in the corner, rubbing his head, groaning.

Uther stirred.

Merlin felt dizzy and sick and, at the back of his mind, was the buzzing fly of annoyance. He knew it was ridiculous, to be feeling something as petty as _annoyance_, but there it was. His hands scrabbled fruitlessly at his throat and the back of his head, simultaneously trying to speak and knock that annoying buzz out of his mind. What Arthur was saying _hurt_, and not just emotionally.

Arthur wasn't just saying everything Merlin had ever feared he would, he was _screaming_, and the sound made his head more sore than it was already, and he just wanted cover his ears and sink into the ground. He wanted to curl up and cry.

But he would not. Not in front of Arthur.

Why had this happened? Merlin hadn't wanted it to, not like this. And was Merlin going to receive no thanks whatsoever for killing the witch who had been minutes away from murdering half the royal family? No. Of course he wasn't. Because this was Camelot, and but a few feet away was Uther, and in Camelot sorcery was punishable by death. Merlin had used sorcery. It was only fitting the rules that he should now die.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Merlin automatically flinched away from the touch, only to look up and see Gwaine, swaying slightly and holding tight to him. Arthur's yelling had subsided for a moment, as he took in the sight.

"You knew," Arthur cried, his tone hurt and accusing.

"Of course I knew. It's obvious. Now you've shut up, make sure that your father isn't going to wake up, and help me with Merlin." He said, through gritted teeth. Arthur's jaw dropped. Not only was Gwaine ordering him around, but he was acting as though... as though Arthur ought to just _accept _what had happened. As though now everything could carry on as normal.

Arthur stared at Merlin, and wondered whether things would ever be normal again. He still didn't move.

Merlin waited, praying that Arthur wouldn't give up on him, _please_. He _needed _Arthur. It wasn't until now, when they were on the brink of losing each other, that Merlin realised how much he needed the Prince. Once he had thought that there was no point in him existing without his magic.

Now he knew that there was something else he couldn't exist without.

And Arthur wasn't moving.

Merlin pursed his cracked and bleeding lips, and reached up, clutching onto Gwaine's arm. Gwaine helped his friend carefully to his feet, holding him upright. Merlin hesitated, thinking that maybe he should just vanish again, stay in hiding, find ways to help Arthur with even more discretion than before, so that Arthur wouldn't even know he was in Camelot. Like that time with the troll.

Both Gwaine and Arthur were startled by the ghost of a smile which flitted across Merlin's lips.

Ouch. Smiling was still a little painful.

Merlin actually began to get ready, trying to get into the right state of mind for the spell to work, when he found himself looking at Morgana. He realised then, that leaving really wasn't an option, even if he would still be in Camelot. He could not let Morgana hurt Arthur, and the only way Merlin could prevent this would be by staying at the Prince's side.

He paused, and then took one, tentative step towards his master, his _friend_-

Arthur's hand flew to his empty scabbard (Morgause had long since taken his sword) and then, realising it wasn't there, suddenly found his feet. He stood, albeit rather shakily, and took on a protective stance, that made Merlin freeze.

_Arthur_.

The name was spoken in Merlin's voice, but Merlin's lips never moved. It was like he had wanted to speak so much, that his magic had forced the sound out from his very pores. Thousands of them, so it came out echoey and distorted and _powerful_.

_I am _not _going to hurt you_. Merlin's voice, or voices, sounded so firm and certain, that Arthur almost dropped his stance, _I would never. I will never, ever hurt you, Arthur._

And then, Merlin's knees gave out once more, all strength wiped from him from that one bit of magic.

_My mouth... hurts..._

Merlin wasn't sure how he managed to pant without opening his mouth, but the painful drawing of breath could be heard, coming from those tiny holes in his skin, and his fingers rose to his lips, but he daren't touch them. They hurt so much all ready. His whole mouth burned.

And, just like that, Arthur knew what had to be done because, a powerful Merlin he couldn't handle, but a Merlin that was crying out in pain, he could handle that. He could deal with that, and then he could work out everything else later. He stumbled forwards, like a blind man, and cursed his trembling limbs, before kneeling beside Merlin and lifting him, like he had done less than an hour ago, after releasing him from that cage.

Less than an hour. Gods, Merlin had been through so much already.

Gwaine's expression turned from anger to confusion to understanding, as he realised that Arthur wasn't going to harm his servant.

How long would Merlin be able to remain a servant in Camelot, now that Arthur knew? Could Arthur ever let Merlin stay? Would Arthur be able to stand being in the same room as his father, knowing that he was harbouring a... a...

Merlin was forced to grasp Arthur's shoulders, and he did so, tightly, clinging on as though his life depended on it and doing all but pressing his face into Arthur's shirt and weeping with something which felt suspiciously like relief.

Merlin could not allow himself to feel relief. It was too soon, and he knew that Arthur was still confused and angry and hurt, and there was no knowing what would come yet. No knowing whether Merlin would live to see the morning, or if even Uther would. Merlin peered around Arthur, squinting at the still form of the fallen King. Gwaine hesitated and then moved to the older man's side.

"It won't be safe to move him," he said.

"I'll stay," Morgana spoke up for the first time, her voice strained but her gaze determined. Merlin's eyes widened, and he wanted to shout 'No!' and even opened his mouth to do so. Unfortunately, this only caused him to black out for a moment, from sheer agony. Arthur tightened his grip, one arm under Merlin's knees, the other around his shoulders. For a second, Merlin's head lolled backwards but, when he came round once more, Arthur shifted, so Merlin's head instead rested against his chest.

By the time Merlin's eyes reopened, Gwaine had thankfully sorted the situation.

"No," he had said, on both his and Merlin's behalf, "Lady Morgana, you have been through a lot tonight. It is best you accompany Arthur, to fetch the physician. I will wait here." Merlin could see how much effort it cost Gwaine to keep the venom out of his voice.

Morgana's eyes strayed over to where Morgause lay, for just a moment, and she looked like she might argue, but then her shoulders slumped. Merlin wondered whether the woman he once called friend felt she had caused enough pain for one night.

The three of them left the tent then, leaving Gwaine crouched down beside the King, Morgause's body shattered and untouched.

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><p><em>So... how was Arthur's reaction? To your liking? Not to your liking? Realistic? Ridiculous? It's the first reveal I've written that's not in drabble form so I'm interested in hearing your opinion. Also, a few reviews will help me gear up for writing the next chappie :D<em>

_THANKSALOT _


	17. Chapter 17

_Heya! Ok, so I know it's been a while, so I'm seriously grateful to everyone who's stuck with this fic, you're all amazing :)_

_I have a teeny excuse as to why I didn't get this chapter up about three days ago... uh, I didn't save it. I don't know how it happened... actually I do. My computer ran out of charge, and I was sleepy, so I slept... and chapter 17 never returned, so I had to redo it and blahblahblah._

_It's also a little shorter than usual, but I feel I need to give you _something_ because it's been ages, and I don't want you to give up on me!_

_Please enjoy, and reviews would make me much happy :)_

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><p> <strong>Chapter 17<strong>

Merlin stared at his warped reflection, in Arthur's armour. A few minutes ago, he had believed it to be a shirt, which he could hide his face in, but he had been delirious. It was metal; cold, hard and unforgiving.

Merlin's eyes refused to shut, as he stared at the image before him. His own face made him want to throw up. Deep gouges had been taken from his hollow cheeks, leaving his face smeared with blood, and his forehead had a huge, mottled bruise, which spread down, over his puffy eyes. But his lips were the worst. If they even were lips anymore. The skin had crusted, and what once had been pink was now brown and hard. They oozed blood and, as the sickening liquid dried, it joined the two scabs together. Every time he tried to open his mouth, he whimpered from the pain pulling them apart.

Beside him, walked Morgana. She glided like some beautiful, pale ghost, her skin glowing beneath the moon. He only made eye contact with her once, green meeting blue. He wasn't sure what her expression meant, and he found that he didn't want to know. After less than a second, his head jerked back to stare resolutely into Arthur's gleaming chest plate.

Ahead of them, was the castle, slowly becoming bigger and bigger, as they drew nearer. Bodies scattered the floor, and some of Camelot's knights were already towing them off in carts, or else building them up, great mounds of corpses, right there in the streets. The fighting had stopped.

In the reflection of Arthur's armour, Merlin spotted a cage, its lock broken, the doors hanging wide. He shuddered, a great rippling which tore through his thin body. Arthur did not look down.

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><p>Merlin was light, but that didn't necessarily make him nice to carry. In fact, Arthur would have preferred it if Merlin had been fat and heavy, because with every step he took, he hated that Merlin was lying there, weak. His very body was deceptive of his great power, and it made Arthur feel ill.<p>

And there was the fact that no full grown young man should feel like this. Like, if you shook him, you would hear his bones rattling in his thin skin. It was because Arthur could feel every sharp edge of Merlin's figure that he didn't feel the need to look at him. He didn't want to see his manservant's face, wrecked and beyond repair.

Because Arthur doubted that, after this, Merlin would ever be whole again.

They were almost at the castle, when Leon ran over, his face shining with sweat, his eyes bright in the aftermath of the battle.

"Sire," he said, his eyes roving curiously, first at Morgana, and then down at Merlin. He gasped at the state of him, but didn't question it. A lot of people had been hurt today, and Leon had more pressing matters on his mind, "the sorcerers... they all just disappeared. I have no idea... they just vanished. A lot of the knights were killed," Leon fought to keep his voice steady, "they were no match for some of the magic these people possessed. They were... they were winning, and then they just left. I believe it is a trap of some kind. I think we ought to ready the knights we have left, and any of the townsfolk who are able-"

"There is no need." Arthur's voice was quiet, but firm. Leon faltered, confused. Arthur sighed. He wanted nothing more than to drop Merlin's body and run, far away. To lay down on soft grass and then sink deep below the ground. Instead, he explained, "Morgause, their leader, is dead. That is why the sorcerers deserted. They probably felt her leaving, or something. Gods, I don't know how these things work. But they are not coming back." Leon's mouth fell open.

"Dead? How?"

"I killed her." Arthur's voice had a steely note to it, and Leon thought it sounded like, in saying those words, Arthur had come to a decision about something. Merlin shifted, ever so slightly, in the Prince's arms.

Morgana stared at Arthur, her mouth a small 'o' of surprise. Her fists clenched, and she wondered whether she had the power to kill her half brother right there. Strike him so hard that he died instantly, crushing his bony manservant in the process.

But she didn't have the power. Not right now. Not after Morgause... she gave a little gasp, and Leon looked at her.

"My lady," he said, anxiously, "is everything all right? You weren't..." his eyes widened for a moment, "fighting were you?"

"Of course not," she managed, "although I am just as handy with a sword as Arthur." She said it with only half of her usual, playful venom, and Arthur didn't even bother contradicting her. She wasn't even sure if he had heard her. His eyes were slightly unfocused, as he stared over the tops of both her and Leon's heads. After a moment's awkward silence, Leon turned back to Arthur.

"If you're sure Sire... would you like me to send someone to fetch her body?"

"No, Leon, my father... it's much more important," Arthur suddenly said,

"The King, sire?" Leon asked.

"Yes, he is in a great tent, that way," he nodded in the direction that they had come, careful not to jolt Merlin, who was beginning to twist restlessly, "stay still," he hissed, harshly down at the servant, trying to disguise his concern. Merlin fell limp, his eyes heavy and sore.

"Is he injured?" Leon asked, looking in the direction Arthur had gestured to.

"He is unconscious." Arthur told him. Leon looked shocked for about the hundredth time, and Arthur sighed, "someone must fetch him. There will be a man, waiting with him. Send him away."

"Who is-"

"Leon," Arthur cut across him, firmly, "I'm sorry, but I must get Merlin inside. See the King safely back to the castle, send the man with him away. After that, go into the houses with any other knights who are able. Help the people. Find out how they are, what they need." Leon hesitated for a second, worry clouding his eyes as he looked at his Prince. Arthur was ensuring that everyone be looked after, but who was looking after Arthur? Leon felt that it was usually the serving boy, Merlin, but now said boy was lying, half dead, in Arthur's arms. Arthur looked desperate to be on his way, however, so Leon offered no words of comfort. How did you comfort a man in the Prince's situation, anyway? Instead, he said,

"Sire," and, with a curt nod, turned on his heels, going to fetch another knight to help him with the King.

Arthur gave a groan of relief, and carried on, up the Castle steps and into the blood soaked entrance hall. He staggered onwards, trying to remain upright, more so as not to shame himself by falling in front of Morgana, than anything else. Had he been alone, he might have crumpled to the floor, his body protecting Merlin's from further harm, and waited for someone to find him. To save them both...

Gods! Arthur shook his head, why did he care about saving a damn _sorcerer_, anyway.

Because it's Merlin, a small voice said, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Gwen's, and Merlin isn't just 'a sorcerer'. He's not even just a servant, is he? Has he ever been?

Arthur didn't know. How could he justify being... being _friends_, with someone who had magic? He couldn't think straight. He would wait. Wait till he was healed in body and mind, wait till Merlin was ready to speak for himself too... but how long would that be? Looking at Merlin now, Arthur wondered whether he would ever be able to speak for himself again.

Morgana didn't move from his side, staying close, a warm, solid presence in this cold, grey world. Every now and then, her fingers would dart out, brushing against his neck, his hair... When Arthur felt her fingers press against his, for just a second, he felt strength fill him once more, even if it was just a shadow of what he had felt at the start of the battle.

Morgana would be his rock. Morgana, who had _always _stood up for what was right. Morgana would be here for him now. She touched his skin, not like a lover, not like Gwen, but as a sister. A protector.

Arthur forgot that it would be shameful to break down before Morgana, and leaned into her touch, let her support his arm, as great harsh breaths jolted through him.

And maybe, for a second, Morgana forgot that this man was the one standing between herself, and the throne. Forgot, for a second, that this was just her _half brother_. Not ever her brother.

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><p>Gaius was waiting where they had left him. The number of patients had risen, and he didn't see them enter. It was Gwen who ran forward, and took Morgana's place at Arthur's side. Arthur was surprised by the sudden feeling of loss as the girl he had grown up with moved away. He looked into Morgana's eyes, and was suddenly gripped by the horrible feeling that this was the last time he'd see them.<p>

His mouth opened and closed, wordlessly, as he stared at her, but then Gwen was guiding him forwards, ever so gentle, and he looked away from his father's ward, allowed himself to be seated on a wooden bench. Waited for Gaius to appear. For the weight of Merlin to be lifted from his arms. And as that weight, however light, finally left him, Arthur, at last, sunk into the welcoming arms of darkness.

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><p><em>So, I hope that was ok... I know it wasn't a particularly chunky chappie, but it's just something to tide you over. I hope I wrote Leon ok... it's the first time I've written him, and to be honest, I'm not too familiar with his character.<em>

_Also, I would like to know youR feelings on Morgana, if you have any? I want you to know that I'm not just suddenly turning her into a lovely person or anything like that, she's just a bit confused... she's been through quite an ordeal after all, and now she has a few choices to make. All of that to come in later chapters, anyway. THANKSALOT FOR READING!_


	18. Chapter 18

_I just want to thank everyone for being patient and sticking with this story- I know the gaps between chapters are a little ridiculous right now, I'm really sorry. I started school a few days ago so, yeah... I'm thinking only a few more chapters left of this story, which is a bit sad, but kind of exciting :D_

_Warnings: um, some suicide references. I'm not sure if that's the right way to describe it, but..._

_I hope you enjoy, and please keep reviewing!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

Gwen was momentarily torn between helping Merlin, and checking on Arthur. She settled for swiftly placing two fingers over Arthur's neck, revelling in the feel of a steady pulse there, and then darted to Gaius' side. Merlin had been placed on one of the tables again, except this time other people had to be moved for him to fit there. Gwen's fingers ghosted over Merlin's cheeks and her heart was clenched in terror.

"Merlin," and tears ran from her eyes because this, this man, was her best friend. He had been from the first day she'd met him, "Merlin, you're going to be all right," she whispered, hands in his hair, lips on his bruises as she whispered into his skin, "we're going to take care of you Merlin."

Merlin still hadn't shut his eyes. It seemed they were incapable of closing, and were the only things keeping him conscious. They widened slightly, at Gwen's show of affection, but he knew it meant nothing more than her love for him as a friend, and he wanted her to hold him more than anything, to rock him and keep telling him that he was safe now.

"Gwen," Gaius said, gently, "you need to let me treat him,"

"Yes, of course," Gwen moved away, and the loss must have shown in Merlin's eyes, because she quickly reached out and held his hand instead, "can I do anything?"

"We need to wash his wounds. _Quickly_, and then we need to bind them. Fetch me water. I have a few bandages, but probably not enough. Get me some of them too. And, there is a jar of light blue salve, which helps heals bruises, and another which is likewise but yellow, which should help with the smaller cuts on his face." Gwen nodded, squeezed her friends fingers in a way which she hoped told him she would be returning, and then dashed off.

Once she had gone, Gaius knelt by his ward's head. Merlin's eyes rolled so he could see him.

"Merlin, I need to tell you now, that what you have suffered is beyond anything I have ever healed, and perhaps anything I am capable of healing. You need to find your magic Merlin, and you need to use it. Remember that time, when you were unconscious after taking the potion, and you still managed to use your magic to help Arthur? Do you remember that Merlin?" Merlin nodded, painfully slow, "you need to try and find that, Merlin. That little bit of power which your body stores away for emergencies. This is important."

Merlin just stared. He felt completely empty. There was not even the slightest whisper of magic inside him; if he ever had some emergency store, he had already used it, to kill Morgause, to talk to Arthur... to not be dead already. He grimaced, trying to convey this to Gaius, who sighed, his face drawn.

"Merlin, you really don't have a choice." He said, softly, gently pushing Merlin's fringe out of his face, gingerly running a thumb over the bruise on his forehead.

After a few more minutes, Gwen returned, laden down with bundles of bandages, and clutching the two small jars in her left hand. She set them all down on the table, beside Merlin and the physician.

"Gwen, I will be fine helping Merlin, I need you to go see to Arthur. It won't do for the king to turn up and find everyone looking after a servant, rather than the prince."

"But Merlin-" Gwen started, meaning to say that Merlin was the one who _needed _all the looking after, but Gaius cut across her,

"I know, but Guinevere, Arthur has been through a lot this evening too." Gwen hesitated, and then turned to Arthur, her prince and, as she sat beside him, leaned against him, she felt a rush of love and affection, different to what she had felt with Merlin.

She didn't really know how to help him, but she guessed that getting him out of his heavy armour might be a good idea. It felt nice, familiar, to have her fingers running over the armour, loosening it, prising it from Arthur's skin. His eyelids fluttered as she worked, and Gwen found it hard to keep her breathing steady, whenever she knew that he was watching her beneath his lashes. She reached then for his gauntlet, meaning to remove it from his forearm, but that was when his hand snatched at hers.

"No," he whispered, softly, and Gwen was shocked and scared by just how drawn and weary he sounded.

"Sire," she frowned, staring from Arthur's determined face, to his gauntlet. After a few seconds, Arthur's face relaxed, and he held out his arm once more. Gwen hesitated, and then removed it, placing it on the floor with all the other armour. His eyes followed its descent and he felt ill by the thoughts he had allowed to run through his head. Thoughts about how he should have kept it on, if only to throw it down at Merlin's feet later.

He looked over at Merlin, whose eyes were trained on the ceiling, while Gaius carefully wrapped bandages around the cuts on his hands. Arthur got to his feet and began to stagger over to them practically dragging Gwen along.

"Sire," she said, trying to pull him back, but he was too strong, even in his weakened state. He reached Merlin's side, and stared down at him, so Merlin had no choice but to look at his face.

And any rage Arthur had had before, any confusion, any fear, vanished in that second. Because Merlin looked more terrified than Arthur would have believed possible of his spritely servant. He appeared to be trying to disappear within himself, somehow managing to shrink away from Arthur, even whilst lying flat out on the table. He moved his mouth wordlessly, his eyes glistening, and Arthur sighed.

"It's ok, Merlin," he murmured, knowing now it was true made it so much easier. Of course Merlin would be ok. Arthur would not hurt him, and no one else would _ever _hurt Merlin again. And then Merlin tried to reach out, his bandaged arm stiff and impossible.

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><p>Merlin wasn't quite sure what he was intending to do. He wanted to give Arthur some kind of sign, but he wasn't sure why, or what for. Thank you, Arthur? Thank you for not <em>killing <em>me? Thank you for not hating me? Thank you for being the Prince I always knew you were?

But Merlin didn't think waving his sore, useless arm would be any help, till Arthur reached out and grabbed it, gently placing it on Merlin's own chest, and then carefully pushing the hair from Merlin's face. Merlin stared up at his friend, bewildered.

"Don't you ever go running off again, _Mer_lin, or you will be in more trouble than you would have ever believed possible. I'm not going to lecture you about this... _incident,_ until you're better. And... and if that means you have to-" he took a deep breath (this was harder than he thought) "use magic, then go ahead, because you are most certainly _not _dying on my watch."

And Merlin wondered whether that was all he had ever needed. Just Arthur's permission, because Arthur's acceptance was something precious, and Merlin felt that if he held it too tightly it might shatter, and his powers would break along with it. Because how could Merlin ever continue to use magic, if he knew for a fact that Arthur hated him for it? The thought was inconceivable, and Merlin shuddered with the weight of it.

Arthur leaned forward, scared by the reaction Merlin was having to his words. Very scared.

Merlin's eyes had rolled up into his head, and he was convulsing, a fit stealing through his body.

"Gaius! Gaius what-"

"He's having a fit-"

"Yes, I can see-"

"Arthur, he's using magic."

"_What?_ Now? But-" Arthur turned to look back at Merlin, who had stopped writhing and had fallen limp. Around him, hung a soft golden mist, and when Arthur tried to reach for Merlin, through the gold, he gasped and snatched it back, his fingers burning.

"It's protecting him from further harm, I believe, sire." Gaius explained.

"But Gaius, everyone can _see _it!"

"See _what_?" Gwen had been hanging back, deciding to let Arthur talk to Merlin privately, as that was obviously what he wanted, but then Merlin had started shaking, and she had ran forward, not even listening to what Arthur and Gaius were saying, just gazing at her friend. But now Arthur's voice was escalating into a tone of full panic, so she turned to him, confused. Arthur's eyes widened.

"You can't see it?" he whispered, and she shook her head slowly, wondering what it was she was meant to have seen.

"Sire," Gaius lowered his voice, "I think only the people that know, can see it."

"Only the..." Arthur glared at Merlin, whose eyes were still shut. He was angry at himself really. How could Merlin be this clever, and yet Arthur barely gave him any credit for it, or ever even realised it? This man was _powerful_, and had probably saved Arthur countless times. And had he ever asked to be anything more than his servant? Had he ever used his power over Arthur? Had he ever done anything but just solidly _be there_?

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><p>Gwen didn't understand what was going on, and although she was extremely curious, there were more important things at hand, such as actually getting Merlin better, and making Arthur sit down, and...<p>

"Arthur, where is Morgana?" she asked.

These words got a noticeable reaction from Merlin. He gasped, a loud racking sound, and then began to force out horribly marred, gurgling syllables.

"Morrrg...aaa..." he gritted his teeth, wincing, before opening his mouth to try again.

"Shush, Merlin," Arthur cautioned, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt in his chest as the sound of Merlin's voice, however harsh. Merlin coughed, and might have sobbed a little bit, but he was trying to cover it up, so Arthur didn't say anything. Merlin wiped at his mouth, and came away with blood, and a distraught look on his face. The mist around him was fading, Arthur noticed, which he hoped was a good sign.

"I think it best if you don't try and talk just yet, Merlin," Gaius said. Merlin turned his gaze onto the old man. He looked frantic, and he tried to speak again,

"Morrr-"

"I know, Merlin," Gaius said, softly, and Merlin gave up, looking tearful.

"Know what, Gaius? What about Morgana?" Arthur asked. Gaius looked at him, and sighed.

"If she's not here, I don't believe she's in Camelot at all." Arthur blinked. He thought about that feeling he'd had, that he was never going to see Morgana again... but that had just been a feeling. He wanted to say that Gaius was being ridiculous, but the physician sounded deadly serious, and he was more often correct than not.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked quietly. No one answered. Gaius' expression was pained. Gwen stood there for a second longer, and then fled from the room.

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><p>Morgana.<p>

Gwen panted, trying to fight tears as she sprinted through the castle, past Sir Leon who was helping to carry the King into the entrance hall. He shouted after her, but she ignored him, taking the steps two at a time, her dress catching on her ankles, making her stumble.

"Morgana!" she yelled her mistresses name, not _My Lady_, but _Morgana_, as she pushed open the doors to her chambers. Morgana stood by the open window, gazing out. She didn't even turn when Gwen entered, gasping for air, her dark skin flushed, marked with salt water. As Gwen watched, she thought of how Morgana had changed, ever since she'd got back after that year. How she had never been quite the same, how their friendship had broken, all that time ago. But Gwen had clung to it, because Gwen loved Morgana, who had always seemed to brave and selfless and caring. Had clung to it because, once upon a time, the pair had been inseparable. And Gwen still didn't know what was troubling her mistress, but she did know that this was the end.

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. Morgana glanced at her then, and the ghost of a dark smile flitted across her lips. Then she stood up on the windowsill, and threw herself out into the night.

Gwen's scream echoed around the room, as she ran forwards, leaning out of the window, staring down.

It was dark, but knights and guards were moving down below, holding up torches as they searched for bodies. Gwen stared, choking on her sobs. She couldn't see Morgana anywhere. It was like she had vanished before she hit the ground.

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><p><em>One of the things I really love about the show is Morgana and Gwen's friendship (I am secretly a bit of a morganagwen shipper, but whatever...) and I'm going to be quite sad seeing Morgana all scary and cold in the fourth series (which is coming very soon btw! I am crazy excited :D)_

_I hope this chapter was ok. I feel like not enough is happening, but there's gonna be some Uther in the next chapter. I don't know whether you feel this is a good thing or not, but hey! Please let me know what you think of the story so far :) MUCHLOVE xx_


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19's finally here! I'm so sorry for how long it took me to update... I really thought I'd be able to get it up sooner but then school started and suddenly everything just got... well... horrible, with little time for writing fanfiction :'(_

_I love everyone who continues to read this, even with the sometimes ridiculously long breaks between chapters._

_Please enjoy and review :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

Leon was supporting the King into the entrance hall, the older man's arm slung across his shoulders, which bowed under the weight. There were other knights with him, clanking in their heavy armour, trying to help. The young man was there also... Gwaine. Leon had instructed him to leave, like Arthur had said, but he wouldn't listen.

"I need to see Merlin," he had insisted and, in the end, Leon had consented. The other man's hair was matted with blood, still leaking from a wound in the back of his head, and Leon thought it might be best that Gaius check him over before they sent him on his way. Some serious damage might have been done and, if what Gwaine said was true, he had attained the injuries trying to save Arthur from Morgause (not that Arthur would ever admit he needed saving).

Leon had managed to support Uther all the way from the strange tent, and was now almost out of the entrance hall, when a young woman ran past.

"Guinevere!" he shouted in surprise, instantly recognising Morgana's pretty hand-maid. She ignored him, however, continuing to run past. He stared after her, and noticed that Gwaine too was watching her disappear.

"Go after her," Leon said, after a moment's hesitation. He didn't really know Gwen, but it was enough that practically everyone else in Camelot was in distress, without someone else running into some sort of trouble. Gwaine frowned,

"I came to see Merlin," he said, and Leon was impressed at how he managed not to slur, considering how much he had drunk from the flask at his hip on the way over, plus the lump on his head.

"Merlin was pretty much unconscious when I last saw him," Leon told Gwaine for what felt like the hundredth time, although he didn't let any impatience steal into his voice, "do you know that girl?"

"Gwen," Gwaine said, instantly, easily remembering her pretty face, and the lilac dress she wore. Leon was only a little taken aback; he had never before heard of Gwaine, but the man truly was full of surprises.

"She's friends with Merlin. You'd be doing him a favour by making sure she's all right." He watched as Gwaine hesitated, and then nodded, moving away and running towards where Gwen had vanished.

Leon gave a small sigh of relief; at least he didn't have to explain his failure at not managing to make Gwaine leave to Arthur just yet. All he had to concentrate on now was getting the King into Gaius' capable hands.

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><p>Gwaine rubbed at the back of his head. Damn, it <em>hurt<em>! He thought back to Morgause, the way her eyes had shone, looking so much like Merlin's when he performed magic it was scary, and then he had been lifted off his feet, given a few seconds, before pain blossomed inside his head.

Now he pressed his fingers to where the blood still trickled, as he climbed the stairs. He wasn't quite sure which direction Gwen had taken, but he took a couple of random turns, trying to ignore the sickening, pulsing pain...

One of the doors, he noticed, was flung wide open, and the corridor was draughty. He approached the open door, from where the cold air was coming. Suddenly, a scream rent the air, and Gwaine broke into a run, reaching the door just in time to see Gwen dash to the Lady Morgana's window.

"Gwen," he called, stumbling forwards and grabbing her shoulders, suddenly fearing that she would fall. She started, jerking away from the sill and spinning round to face him.

"Who-" she began to talk, at the same time as she started to cry. Tears already marked her face, but they had been silent. Now, she pressed a hand to her mouth and shook, sobbing like she had when they had taken away her father's body, and when she had thought Merlin to be dead after drinking poison. These were tears her body held back, only to be used when someone close to her had been lost. Morgana had been lost. Gwen knew there was no bringing her mistress back.

"shush," Gwaine was rarely ever awkward around women, but crying women were different, especially when the tears weren't because he'd done something. Gwen wasn't about to slap him because he had told her he was leaving. She wasn't about to shout because she'd discovered just who he'd been with the night before.

Gwen's grief was for something else, so horribly solid and sad, and Gwaine was detached. Nothing she did to him would make her feel any better. So Gwaine had no idea how he was supposed to help.

It took a few moments before Gwen recognised him,

"Gwaine?" she stared at him, and he nodded, with a little smile.

"Come with me," he said, gently, reaching over and placing a hand on her arm. She pulled away, looking uncertain, as her eyes travelled back towards the window.

"Morgana jumped," she whispered, "and disappeared."

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><p>Gwaine and Guinevere moved quietly through the castle. Leon was no longer in the entrance hall, but they found him with Gaius in the large space cleared for the injured, which stank of oozing blood and death. Gwen shivered, and moved away from Gwaine almost instantly, heading straight for Arthur. The other knights were preoccupied, stripping off their armour, and only Gwaine and Leon saw the kiss Gwen pressed to Arthur's lips.<p>

But Gwaine couldn't really find it within himself to be interested in the forbidden love affair. He was drawn straight towards Merlin, who had been moved to the floor, in order to make room for Uther.

"Merlin," he said, kneeling beside him, "what the hell are you doing down here?" Merlin rolled his eyes,

"Gwaine," he said, and Gwaine's jaw dropped to hear Merlin's voice, however rough, "you fink me over 'ther?"

"Uther will recover on the floor," Gwaine grinned.

"I won't?" Merlin tried to sound offended, but it seemed that his voice wasn't quite ready to express much more than pain. Still, Gwaine appreciated the effort. He rested a hand on Merlin's shoulder,

"I guess with a little hokus pokus you could recover anywhere."

"Shh," Merlin attempted to swat Gwaine with his hand, but only ended up gasping in agony. Gwaine rolled his eyes, but didn't attempt to cover up his worry or affection like Arthur might,

"Be careful, would you," he said, with a small chuckle, "I can't have my best mate even more damaged than he is already!"

"Not damaged," Merlin grouched.

"No," Gwaine amended, "just quite injured. Merlin... are you-"

"Not really," Merlin answered before Gwaine could finish with an 'all right'. Gwaine sighed, sadly, wondering whether Merlin was just in pain from his multiple injuries, or from the memories of the last few days, or grieving for the loss of the girl, Sarah, and all the others who had died that night. It stung Gwaine that Merlin had so many different things to not be all right about. Well, it did more than 'sting'. It made him want to rip something apart. If only Morgana hadn't vanished...

That was another thing which made Gwaine angry. Not only had Morgana escaped, but she had done so without anyone finding out about her betrayal. Merlin would no doubt wish to keep it a secret from Arthur, to protect him from the pain of finding out that he had a murderer for sister.

It looked at least like Gwen knew Morgana wasn't the woman or the friend she once was. The fact that Morgana hadn't cared what this might do to the woman she had once been so close to hurt too. Morgana didn't give a damn that her flight from the open window would haunt Gwen's dreams for years to come.

"Gwaine," Gwaine looked up as a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Arthur stood above him.

"Arthur," Gwaine gently squeezed Merlin's shoulder and got to his feet; he had a feeling this was going to be goodbye.

"I knew Leon wouldn't be able to keep you," Arthur said with a tight smile.

"Yeah, well," Gwaine shrugged, "I knew you'd all be desperate to see me," it was a weak stab at humour, and the two men knew it, but Merlin still chuckled feebly from the floor, which made them both smile fondly.

"You can't be here, when my father wakes," Arthur said, firmly, and Gwaine nodded in agreement.

"I know," he said, "but I don't mind staying in hiding. Just till Merlin recovers-"

"No," Arthur cut across him, "you'll stay long enough for Gaius to give you something for your head, and then you'll get the hell out of Camelot." Gwaine had been expecting this, but it didn't make it any easier to hear, or make him any more accepting of the situation.

"Merlin _needs_ me,"

"Exactly," Arthur said, softly, "and if my father caught you, what then? You'd be dead, Gwaine." Gwaine opened his mouth to argue, when he felt something knocking against his ankle. He looked down to see Merlin prodding him with his foot.

"Not safe here," he said, quietly, and Gwaine couldn't keep from wincing at just how raw the sounds Merlin made were. He glanced round quick enough to see a similar expression on Arthur's face. Merlin rolled his eyes,

"Stop't. M'fine," he grumbled.

"Hardly!" Arthur spluttered, but Gwaine gave him a little shove to shut him up, ignoring the Prince's scandalous expression, and crouched down next to Merlin once more.

"You shou' go," Merlin told him. Gwaine hesitated.

"I can't just... I can't just leave you, Merlin. You're important to me, mate, I can't just-"

"Have to take her body," Merlin interrupted, and Gwaine stared, eyes wide.

"Merlin, what-" Arthue knelt beside Gwaine, looking equally as confused and surprised,

"Sarah, need to bury her." Merlin stated, looking suddenly even more exhausted than before.

"I told her father she'd get a proper burial in Camelot," Arthur told Merlin, carefully, but Merlin just jerked his head from side to side, till Gwaine said

"Stop that," gruffly, placing his hands on either side of Merlin's face to stop it from moving. Merlin's eyes streamed from the pain the movement had caused.

"Uther won' allow it," Merlin insisted, "need to be buried... outside..."

"But she _deserves _a proper burial."

"She wouldn' like it. She like country. Trees 'n grass..." Merlin was struggling to convey what Arthur had to understand.

And Arthur thought he did; Uther probably never would allow Sarah to be buried within the walls of Camelot. He would probably have every corpse checked, to find out whether they really were citizens of Camelot or not. If they weren't they would be deemed as sorcerers, and their bodies burnt, the ashes dropped down some deep hole, as far from Camelot as humanly possible.

Sarah would be identified as a magic user. She wouldn't be given a grave in Camelot, no matter how hard Arthur might argue with his father. Merlin was right. If Sarah was to get any kind of burial, she needed to be taken out of Camelot. Arthur would find a secret way of holding a proper ceremony, fit for someone who had died fighting in the way she had. Fighting simply for what was right.

"Do what Merlin says," Arthur instructed, "take Sarah's body. And her father, have him go with you. Explain to him that this is the safest way, and that his daughter will still be honoured for what she did tonight. He can decide where she'll rest." Gwaine hesitated, gazing down at Merlin's thin frame. Then he nodded,

"All right," he said, before placing a hand on Merlin's forearm, "goodbye, Merlin."

"Bye," Merlin said, thickly, looking suddenly scared, as Gwaine began to move away. Gwaine noticed, and something clenched around his heart.

"Everything's going to be fine, Merlin."

"yeah," Merlin agreed, although Gwaine could see the despair in every line of Merlin's face.

"Bye Arthur," Gwaine patted the Prince on the back, and leaned close to whisper in his ear without Merlin hearing, "if you do anything to him that doesn't involve giving him days off and instructing he spend a year in bed, and _not _telling anyone about his little gift, you will pay, Arthur. Trust me." And then he left the pair of them together, on the floor.

After everything that had been said, Gwaine had completely forgotten to ask Gaius for some kind of salve for his head.

Up on the table, Uther twitched.

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><p><em>So... yup. I hope you liked that, and it was vaguely worth the wait :D Oh, and Daisy, who asked after Gwaine, I hope you liked him in this chappie... I'm not too sure how much he'll be appearing in later chapters. <em>

_And the review 'appreciation' that was really lovely and made me smile all day when I read it! Thanks for such a gorgeous review! _


	20. Chapter 20

_Ok. Wow. Everybody, this is it. The final chapter of Come Join the Circus of Sorcery. It's kind of crazy actually; it feels like I've been writing this forever, and I've _loved _writing it, and I think a few of you have been enjoying it too, which is wonderful._

_Thank you everyone for being so amazing, you have all helped me get this written, seriously. Your reviews are gorgeous, and all the favourites and alerts are just sd,jfhdgsf_

_There are things that I never managed to fit into the story- like, there were meant to be more sarah/merlin moments, but there didn't seem to be a good place to put them and, besides, this story has been much more about the merlin/arthur and merlin/gwaine bromances anyway._

_I don't know if this ending will be anywhere near satisfactory for you but I just reached the last sentence, and realised that there really wasn't anything more to say. Please enjoy, and if you could drop a review just to tell me how you found this chapter, or the whole story in general, that would be lovely :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

Uther was awake. Or, at least, he thought he might be. Shapes flitted behind his eyelids, deep shadows which penetrated his already darkening mind. He must still be on the battle field, he thought, the ground was so hard, and his fingers jerked as he tried to get up, his eyes suddenly flying open, and a cry falling from his lips.

"Father," the word was so loud, Uther felt like his skull had splintered beneath his skin, and he gasped, chest heaving, eyes streaming.

Arthur stared at his father in shock. He had pulled himself up from Merlin's side, at a sign of movement from the king, and now here he was _crying_. And Arthur had no idea what to do. His own throat felt constrained.

"Gaius..." he choked, turning to the physician, "what... what's wrong with him?"

"Morgause's spell is leaving him, I think," Gaius cast a worried glance down at Merlin, whose eyes were wide with fear, flicking between Arthur and Uther. Arthur looked at him too, and almost asked what was wrong, when it hit him like a blow to the stomach.

"Can he hear us, Gaius?" he asked,

"I... probably, sire," Gaius was now peering into Uther's eyes, which were wild with shock and pain.

Merlin shuddered on the floor, suddenly cold, thin arms wrapping around himself, as he stared at Arthur, terrified. This was the moment when Arthur would tell Uther all, would tear away the string holding Merlin to life. Tear away his destiny. Blue eyes filled with tears as he imagined it, fire engulfing his body, while Arthur watched on. Would he care, Merlin wondered, would he feel anything to see the man who had, perhaps, been his closest friend, be reduced to burnt flesh and ash before his very eyes? Or would he only see a sorcerer, a thing of evil, being destroyed, as was right?

"We _will _talk about this Merlin. And you _will _explain _everything _to me," Arthur said, trying to be stern, but it was difficult to be hard on a man who was cowering on the floor, after killing a powerful sorceress to save his life, and who had very recently been through hell. Merlin nodded, looking a little confused, and Arthur crouched down once more, "I won't let anything else happen to you, Merlin." Arthur told him, softly, and Merlin's relief surged up inside him so fast, that he couldn't breathe. He gasped, eyes streaming, before collapsing fully onto his back, curling up, and falling asleep.

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><p>When Merlin first woke, he wasn't quite sure where he was. His back ached horribly and, when he tried to sit up, there was a bar across his chest, forcing him back down.<p>

"Ow," he mumbled, lifting his arms to push at the strange bar, his eyes opening a crack.

"Merlin, will you _please_, stop it? You're going to make yourself even more injured!" Merlin forced his eyes a little further open, and saw that it was an arm, pressing heavily against him. He followed the skin of it, up and up, till the creases on the inside of the elbow, and then up further still, till his eyes rested on Arthur's face, which wore a strange confession that Merlin, if he didn't know better, might have linked with concern.

"Arthur, what...?" He croaked, slumping backwards, deciding there was no point in trying to move with Arthur's arm pinning him down.

"You are to stay in bed," Arthur informed him, firmly, before removing his arm, and sitting back in a chair he had placed beside the bed. Merlin simply stared at him, wondering why his head felt so empty.

"But what's going on?" he asked, desperately struggling to keep a grip on what seemed to be reality, but surely it couldn't be? Memories were beginning to return to him now, and Merlin found he couldn't keep still, never mind Arthur's instructions.

He bolted upright, gasping as pain shot right the way through his body, and then swung his legs over the bed, getting hastily to his feet, only to cry out as his knees suddenly buckled. Arthur was there in an instant, catching him before he fell, and forcing him back down.

"What the _hell_ Merlin," he said, and his tone was angry, not just annoyed or exasperated, but angry.

"_Arthur_," Merlin was horrified by how the name came out as something like a squeak, "the battle! Your father! Where's Gwen? And Morgana? Arthur, what are we doing here? Morgause, Arthur, she... she..." and suddenly Merlin was shaking, and Arthur was reaching forwards, fingers twisting gently around Merlin's wrists,

"Everything's... well, I wouldn't say _fine_, exactly, but it's better, Merlin. Will you please just _stay still?_" He added, as Merlin twisted his wrists in agitation.

"But _Arthur_," and Merlin screwed up his eyes as he fought against tears because this _wasn't fair_. It wasn't fair that he should be crying. It was embarrassing, when Arthur was managing just fine, because Arthur never cried for anyone.

Arthur expected to feel embarrassed, as Merlin's shoulders shook with a hundred repressed emotions, expected his mouth to run away with him, to blurt something about it being stupid to cry. But it didn't happen. Arthur was still learning, but he could read Merlin better than most people, and he knew enough about the slight young man he had come to call his friend, to realise that when Merlin shed tears it meant something. And it was important.

Arthur moved from his chair to sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Merlin's trembling forearm. The other man managed to hold it together for all of a second longer, before pale fingers flew to his mouth as he choked on his own sobs.

They stayed like that for a while, and Arthur thought as he clung onto Merlin.

The kingdom was still being cleared of corpses, and some of the streets that were further away still ran with blood. Morgause's body had vanished, the same day it had fallen. Arthur had heard rumours that Morgana had been seen, carrying the witch in her arms, before disappearing into thin air. Arthur didn't know what to make of this yet; all he knew was that Morgana had not returned, and it had been two days since the battle.

Uther was recovering, being kept in his chambers, and attended to by Gaius, and Gwen. Gwen wandered around like a ghost, and Arthur watched as she was drawn to Morgana's empty chambers, how she would hover with her hand on the doorknob... he never stayed long enough to see if she went inside or not.

There had not yet been any word from Gwaine, but he had taken Godfrey and Sarah's body, and Arthur guessed she was buried by now, and hoped that the two men were getting as far from Camelot as possible. Then, hopefully they would get a message to him, and Arthur would arrange for the girl's grave to be blessed.

Merlin had slept fitfully, and so deeply that Arthur had several times entered his little room, only to feel cold and sick, thinking that his servant had died.

And Merlin would have to tell Arthur _everything_. Arthur felt he deserved to know exactly what Merlin having magic meant, what he could do, what he couldn't, how many people he'd saved, how many he'd killed...

That thought made Arthur shiver. Now he knew what Merlin was capable of... it would have been a truly terrifying thought, had he not trusted Merlin with everything.

Merlin took a deep breath, which shuddered through his lungs, before pulling away from Arthur's hand and lying back down. He winced as his back pressed against the thin mattress. Arthur frowned down at the bed, which could only be described as inadequate after the injuries Merlin had sustained, but everywhere else in the castle was full. The sick and cursed and wounded were in every room, taking up every available space, but there were still more.

Arthur had been the one to instruct the knights to bring anyone who needed help into the castle, and Gaius was working overtime trying to get to them all, but it needed to be done, and before Uther fully recovered, because after that they would no doubt be turned out.

It was impossible to say what was going to happen next, though. The world wasn't the same, and it was difficult to say whether it would ever get back to normal again. And all that Arthur could bring himself to care about, at this point, was Merlin. Merlin was alive.

Things would be sorted, things would be discussed, and there would be arguments. Arthur would yell at Merlin for not telling him sooner, and Merlin would heatedly remind him of all the sorcerers he'd allowed to die, had stood back and watched burn. They would both cry, with their backs turned to each other, tears of anger and confusion, and then Merlin would threaten to run away. He would go as far as packing up his things, and standing at the castle doors, looking out, before Arthur would drag him back inside, telling him to stop being such an idiot, telling him that he would learn, that things would get better.

And then, after that, they would begin to sink back into old routine. Merlin would serve him, and jokingly insult him, perhaps letting his eyes light up and magic do his chores a bit more often, but by this point Arthur would have stopped caring, and started appreciating how useful having a warlock around could be.

Uther would remain oblivious in his chambers, weighted down beneath the loss of Morgana, and Merlin would build up the courage to tell Arthur who she really was, why she had really left. That was if Arthur didn't already know, in his heart of hearts, that the girl he had grown up with had turned against them all.

But that was all to come. For now, it was just Arthur and Merlin, a Prince and his Warlock. The past was too heavy to be forgotten but it could, for the moment, be ignored. The present was light, and easy, and the pair of them revelled in it, even as they felt the uncertainties of the future wrap grey fingers around their destiny, perhaps about to pull it to breaking point, or maybe to just hold it all together.

_The End_

_Just Celia_


End file.
